


We Were Victories They Didn't Earn

by raendown



Series: Requested Works [38]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-22 06:42:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 30,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30034653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raendown/pseuds/raendown
Summary: A contract killer who hasn't seen his last surviving family since he was a child, Tobirama returns to the city he grew up in to take on a job that will challenge everything he knows about himself and change everything about how he sees the world.
Relationships: Senju Tobirama/Uchiha Madara
Series: Requested Works [38]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1237331
Comments: 28
Kudos: 122





	We Were Victories They Didn't Earn

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RookieDrawer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RookieDrawer/gifts).



> This "Requested Work" is for the wonderful RookieDrawer. Thank you so much, I had an absolute ball writing it!

He found the man, of all places, in a bakery. When he took the job Tobirama didn’t ask a lot of questions. That was his policy, usually; the less he knew the less he had to deal with whatever bias the client carried that led them to contracting him. Generally he preferred to research his own marks and he didn’t care much for motivations. He was getting paid to kill someone. What could knowing the reasons change? 

Still, from the way his clients had hissed about this man he’d been expecting something a little more intimidating than the owner of a small bakery on the market main street. Barely a few sentences from those old men and he’d made an educated guess that money was involved but from the looks of things it didn’t seem like this guy would have much of that. The sign over the door was simple wood with hand painted letters, drawn by a skilled hand for sure but still homemade. Several chairs and couches were visible through the front window of the shop and even from a distance Tobirama could tell they were threadbare, worn, mismatched in a way that hinted they’d all been purchased secondhand. 

Not that any of this was his business. Tobirama took a moment to empty his mind of any presumptions just as he did for every other mark before crossing the street and heading towards the Moon’s Eye Bakery where he had to pause upon seeing the name. If that was a pun on ‘moonpie’ he would scream. 

A small bell tinkled over his head as he walked through the door, one hand lifting to press against his empty stomach as the smell of the kitchen hit him full force. There was definitely cinnamon involved in whatever was in the ovens right now. It might not be the smartest thing to be seen in a public place near the man he’d just been contracted to kill but if nothing else his appetite was glad he’s taken the risk. Generally internet research and careful observation from a distance was enough. Interacting with his marks wasn’t something Tobirama indulged in very often; the only reason he ever did was to remind himself that the people he was killing were real human beings with lives beyond himself, people with families that felt the loss of their absence. Just because he’d never been overly burdened with morals didn’t mean he was ready to toss his humanity aside completely. Tobirama wasn’t saddened by the deaths he caused, he just thought it was important to stay grounded. 

There were a handful of people already standing in an orderly line by the front counter but he didn’t mind stepping in to wait his turn. It gave him a chance to blink around the shop’s interior with a carefully crafted look of sleeping detachment, a face that said he was barely awake and not really seeing anything he was looking at. What the casual observer wouldn’t guess was that even the smallest detail was being recorded by his photographic memory. The holiday cards pinned over the door mantle despite Christmas being several months behind them, the flowerpots with real flowers growing in them rather than fake plastic, the menu with several half erased letters still visible from the day before to show that the daily specials really did get updated. Tobirama saw it all, though he refrained from drawing any conclusions just yet. Not until he knew it was the man he wanted to observe that chose and maintained the shop’s design.

“Excuse me!” a small voice wailed in apology just as someone crashed in to him from behind. Tobirama let his body jerk forward the way anyone else would, arms shooting out as if looking for stabilization and legs fumbling for a balance he hadn’t truly lost. Reacting the way he’d been trained to would only make him stand out and blending in was imperative during this type of surveillance. 

After letting some fondly amused old grandmother steady him back upright Tobirama twisted to see who it was that had crashed in to him. Large dark eyes stared back at him from a face almost too sunny to exist in the same world as he did. 

“I’m really sorry!” the boy said. “Uncle always says I shouldn’t run everywhere ’cause I’m gonna trip and fall. Thanks for catching me!” 

“The act was involuntary, I assure you.” 

“You okay?”

Corners of his mouth twitching, Tobirama frowned just so he wouldn’t smile. “I am uninjured. Yourself?” 

“Oh I’m great! Sorry again! Gotta go before Uncle sees me!” 

He was gone again just like that, dark curly hair springing with every step as he dashed away heedless of the warning he’d just himself repeated. From a distance Tobirama realized he’d judged the baby face a little young. Not a child, just an abnormally short teenager, though from the pitch of voice he was probably still in the early stages of adolescence. 

Despite his aloof act he was glad the child hadn’t been hurt. Children had always been precious in his eyes, entirely off limits and to be protected at all costs. Tobirama hadn’t done many good things in his life but the one grace he had in his soul was his refusal to take any contract that involved hurting a child. It was a mercy he had learned from his elder brother but Tobirama had long since resolved never to let Hashirama know about this hidden soft spot. He didn’t think he could deal with that many tears. 

“Next!” 

The voice that called was gruff and just a little too loud for a sleepy bakery with barely a handful of customers. With well-honed curiosity Tobirama let his scan of the premises gradually ease over until he could take in the man standing at the till now listening to a very tall woman’s order. Long dark hair stuck out from his head in messy spikes near the top, woven back in a disorderly braid past the base of his neck, but the feathery locks did a good job of framing a rather handsome face. A rounded chin and even rounder cheeks lent an almost cherubic look to the deep furrow of thick brows. Either the bottom half of his face didn’t know what the top half was up to or his eyebrows were stuck in a permanent frown even when he attempted to smile. It was oddly endearing. 

“What do you mean you’re out!?” the tall woman demanded in a shrill voice. 

“Means what it means,” Tobirama heard the man reply. “Out. No more.”

“Then go bake some more! I wanted to bring those tarts home for dessert!” 

Now the lips were frowning with the brows. “You see that lineup? I don’t know what baking you expect me to do while I’ve got customers to serve and my employee is out on brea-”

“Here I am! I’m back!” With curls flopping in all directions the boy who tripped himself in to the line earlier appeared like magic behind the till, busily tying a dark apron over his front and smiling brilliantly in the face of the matching scowls that greeted him. 

“You’re late,” the man with the braid growled. 

“Sorry Uncle Madara!”

Contrary to his word, the teen looked more amused than sorry. Tobirama would have been tempted to smile if he weren’t playing the part of a sleepy customer barely paying attention to the world. Instead he couched his face in to something more neutral and dropped his eyelids to half mast, watching from his peripheries as the older man spun on his heel and stormed off towards the kitchen. So that was Uchiha Madara. As first impressions went Tobirama could almost see why someone might take a hit out on someone so grumpy, especially when that ragged head appeared back around the doorframe to glare first at the tall woman and then at the boy now manning the till. 

“No more tarts today!” he declared. Then he disappeared and let his employee to deal with the rage of a foiled customer. 

Tobirama mentally added ‘petty’ to the list of things he’d learned about his mark. Not that he could blame the man, of course. If someone reacted like that to him over something as simple as being sold out of a popular food item he wouldn’t want to be all that accommodating either. He didn’t have much to go on yet but it seemed like if he wasn’t supposed to arrange some kind of accident for this guy they might actually have gotten along. 

Since it would have been entirely too suspicious to ask the boy at the counter any questions and even more suspicious to leave with buying anything Tobirama let his mind drift away until it was his turn at the counter. He ordered a simple coffee and the signature donut of the day to make it seem like he’d come in here for a reason and then he left without looking back. It wasn’t the most he’d learned about someone on first contact but it was far from the least. Not to mention the donut was pretty damn tasty. He marked today up as a win and wandered back to the bolthouse apartment he’d already secured a few blocks away to plan out his next interaction. 

Letting half a week scroll by before going back to the bakery was a test of patience Tobirama had passed dozens of times before, the easy kind of waiting game. He whiled away his time digging through the internet for whatever information he could find on Uchiha Madara and the Moon’s Eye Bakery. There wasn’t much information available. Just a few articles in the local paper about a new shop opening and a sparse social media presence that spoke of someone not too enamored with online life. As much as the lack of information actually made his job harder Tobirama couldn’t help but nod in approval with each day that went by without him learning a whole lot; most people really did put too much of themselves out there for the whole world to see these days and he was exactly the sort of reason those people should be afraid. 

After playing the half asleep customer before, when he stepped in to the bakery today he took another slow look around as though taking in all the details he’d been too out of it to really notice the last time. In truth he was looking for anything that might have changed but the only thing that had was the specials menu. Even the plants in their little terracotta pots didn’t look like they’d moved. A small voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like Hashirama wondered if they’d even been watered. 

“Oh hi again!” a chipper voice greeted him. Tobirama looked forward to see that the only other customer had already been served and the young clumsy employee was working again. 

“Hello…” he murmured with a vague tone. 

“I’m the one that ran in to you!” 

Tobirama nodded, pretending to remember. “Ah. Right. I wanted...hm, I don’t think I see any of the donuts that I had last time in your display case.” 

“Promo item,” another voice growled. “They were only for a limited time.” 

Black hair caught up in the same haphazard braid as before, Uchiha Madara came stomping out of the kitchen with a scowl halfway prepared, obviously preparing to fight off yet another whiny customer. Instead Tobirama nodded and glanced quickly over what was still available. 

“Right then, my fault for missing out. What would you recommend instead?” 

“Wait...really? You’re not gonna yell? Demand something for free?” Madara scratched at his head in bewilderment while his employee snickered behind one hand. Since he did most of his shopping in some pretty back alley places where people generally knew not to cross the employees unless they wanted to risk their necks, Tobirama had all but forgotten how the general public treated their service workers. He found himself battling a smile of his own at the memory of this ragged grump completely shutting down the woman from before. 

“Not if it’s my own fault, no,” he murmured. 

“Huh. Well that’s new. Uh, if you want something a bit similar I’d recommend this one; it’s just a little less sweet than most.” 

Tobirama nodded in approval. “Perfect. I’m not a big fan of overly sweet things.” 

He didn’t realize how strange that would sound until Madara lifted one eyebrow while his employee slowly looked up at the sign with ‘Moon’s Eye Bakery’ written in hand painted letters. Before he could curse himself for such a rookie slip up Madara was breaking in to a grin. 

“Don’t let the job fool you, I’m with you on that one. I’ll never understand everyone’s obsession with buttercream frosting but I’m more than happy to make a profit from it.” He didn’t seem to notice how the change of his expression had frozen his only customer, busy leaning down to bag one of the donuts he’d pointed out. “This one here is my own favorite so if you’ve got any working taste buds I’m sure you’ll enjoy it.”

“Thanks,” Tobirama murmured in a daze. 

“No problem. Kagami, after you ring this up can you remember to run a cleaning cycle on the second coffee machine? The last cup I had out of it tasted a little burnt.”

Madara was already turning to root through another cupboard, presumably for whatever had brought him out to the front in the first place, so he didn’t get to see the messy salute his employee gave him. 

“Sure thing Uncle Madara! Okay that’s just the donut, right? Anything else? Here’s your total, is that cash or card?”

After paying with the handful of coins he’d brought along Tobirama stumbled out of the shop trying not to be too obvious about the mental crisis going on inside his head. It was just a smile. He’d met thousands of people and seen almost all of them smile before, one grin should not break his brain so easily, should not have thrown him off so badly. For the love of whatever was holy he’d even had to seduce several of his targets just to get them in to a position where he could take their lives and not one of them had ever affected him like this before. A pretty face should mean nothing to him.

Maybe, he decided as he bit in to the donut chosen for him, he should just seduce this guy and get it all out of his system. Obviously it had been a bit too long if he was letting himself get distracted by nothing more than an interesting grin. Mind made up - and taste buds dancing with joy, this really was a good donut - Tobirama made a few mental revisions to his plans. If seduction was on the agenda then getting personal information on his mark would only be that much easier. Asking questions would be much less suspicious if he paired them with shyly averted eyes and obviously interested glances toward wherever Madara happened to be standing. He just hoped the guy was interested in hooking up with other men. 

This time the waiting felt interminable. Every hour that ticked by on the clock was another hour Tobirama spent wondering what else he could do to make that dour face turn up in a grin. Still, he was a master at his craft and patience was a skill he had honed to a fine point. Keeping himself locked up in a tiny apartment for a handful of days was hardly the worst fate he’d lived through during his many contracts. For this particular one he’d been asked to make an accident that looked natural and for that he needed personal information and so he waited. Impatiently, yes, but he waited. 

By the time he allowed himself to return to the Moon’s Eye Bakery just over a week had passed yet somehow it was still the same teenage boy standing behind the counter with a beaming smile for everyone who walked through the door. Tobirama ordered a large coffee and the same treat from last time but paused just before turning away.

“Do you by any chance have a copy of the paper?” he asked. 

“Sure!” Kagami chirped. “They’re on that table over there. Free to read as long as you don’t take it with you when you leave.” 

“Excellent, thank you. Oh and, ah, is...your boss working today?” The boy lifted both eyebrows with a broad smile and Tobirama cleared his throat, shuffling his weight in a display of awkward shyness. “Nevermind. I’ll, um, do you give refills? I’ll just go take a seat.”

He chose one of the squashy looking armchairs off by itself and settled down where he was painfully aware of the beaten up security camera poorly hidden in a potted plant nearby. Purely for the benefit of whoever checked those tapes, he peeked over the top of his newspaper several times with a hopeful expression before finally the man he was waiting for made an appearance. Tobirama watched Madara speaking with his employee from the corner of one eye, carefully not smiling in triumph when Kagami blatantly pointed over towards him and winked. 

For the most part all he expected was to lay the groundwork for a bit of flirting, to sniff out how such attentions might be received. He certainly didn’t expect Madara to stump out from behind the counter and march across the room straight towards him. The small plate he carried made a thump when he dropped it on the little coffee table by Tobirama’s knees, ceramic nearly vibrating with the force of careless treatment. 

“I...did not pay for that,” Tobirama murmured. 

“S’fine,” Madara grumbled back. “On the house. For, uh, for...not yelling at my nephew the other day when he nearly ran you over.” 

“Ah, he told you about that, did he?” 

One side of the man’s lips quirked up with a hint of viciousness and he invited himself in to the closest seat. “He told his dad and that’s as good as telling me. My brother and I have always been close.” 

“We have that in common.”

They shared a smile and Tobirama very carefully did not allow himself to think of anything else they might have in common or why he wanted to know if they did. Already he was treading some dangerous waters with the way he traced the shapes of all that unruly hair with his eyes, wondering how long it would take him to brush it out and redo the braid in to something a little tidier. 

After reminding himself that this was nothing but a bit of planned seduction, another mark to blacken his soul when the time was right, he leaned forward to pick up the offered treat and bit in to it with an appreciative noise. They really were good donuts. If nothing else he would mourn the loss of these little bites of heaven when the bakery inevitably shut down - and it would shut down without Madara here, from what he could see. Several online reviews had mentioned other people behind the counter but from what he could gather it was only Madara who did all the baking. Without any baked goods to sell there wouldn’t be much of a bakery to run. 

It was a dangerously pleasant surprise to learn that Madara was an easy conversational partner, much easier than his resting bitch face would have alluded to. For someone who grunted at his customers with half sentences and swore under his breath as he fumbled around behind the counter his words had a surprisingly easy flow once he got going and Tobirama quickly found himself perilously lost to the rhythm. He always had been a sucker for the grouchy sort; they just seemed to compliment him the best. Overly cheerful people reminded him uncomfortably of his eldest brother and the calm sort always reminded him of his youngest. Madara, however, managed to prove in the course of one enticing conversation that he was almost exactly Tobirama’s type, the kind of guy he could really fall for. If he wasn’t careful he could get in to some real trouble with this one. 

Still, he came away from the bakery that day with a new number in his burner phone that he resisted texting only by staring at the ceiling above his bed and naming off all the reasons that letting himself develop feelings was a bad idea. Number one on that list was the fact that he’d been hired to kill this man. Not exactly a recipe for a happily ever after. A wrinkle touched his nose as he went through numbers two through fifty seven just to prove the point to himself. 

Much as he wished he could say that remembering his job put him in a smarter mood, Tobirama spent a shameful number of hours over the next week with his eyes glued to the burner phone, chuckling freely to himself as he enjoyed Madara’s cantankerous wit. Ironically the last time he’d talked to anyone this much he’d fallen in to a relationship with a man who’d actually been hired to kill him for daring to poach in someone else’s self proclaimed territory. One of the very few relationships he’d ever allowed himself, the end result had - needless to say - been quite messy. At the very least he felt sure enough that a random civilian running his own bakery wouldn’t roll over in bed and tried to garrotte him but it was still something he kept in the forefront of his mind, a warning to keep his wits about him and his heart on the inside where it belonged. Getting truly attached could lead to nothing good. 

He was in the middle of trying to decide one evening whether Madara’s goodnight text was an intentional double entendre or if the man might not have realized he was making lewd suggestions when the phone in his hand rang. Tobirama’s heart leapt up in to his throat until his mind actually registered the incoming number and he answered with a sigh.

“What?”

“Is that any way to talk to your favorite older brother?”

“You’re my only older brother,” he pointed out, flopping back on to the mattress and tucking one arm behind his head. “Now what do you want? Should I ask how you got this number?”

Hashirama’s chuckle warmed a place in his heart that he would never admit to. “Oh I have my ways, you should know that.”

And he did, he knew that intimately. Just because the rest of the world operated under the assumption that Senju Hashirama was nothing more than a harmless politician with a too-wide smile and an overflowing heart, that didn’t change the truth of the man under that carefully crafted veneer. Getting elected as mayor had been nothing more than a calculated move to widen his net of influence and solidify power over those he might need to keep quiet. If Hashirama wanted to find a way to contact his little brother there were dozens of people in his pocket who would be more than happy to do a little digging on his behalf. 

“Did you need something in particular?” Tobirama asked. 

“No, not really. I just miss you. It’s...been a while.”

Tobirama untucked his arm to throw it over his eyes instead, frowning at the inside of his own eyelids. “You know why it’s not safe for us to see each other Anija.” Taking a slow breath, he added very quietly, “I miss you too.” 

“Are you sure you won’t even think about settling down here at home? I know international life helps you keep a lower profile and disappear when you need to but…”

“Not this again-”

“Just consider it! There’s a family here in town that I’ve just about got under control and it would be the perfect place for you to settle down. You’d always be close. I’ve even cleaned up their records enough that you wouldn’t have to lay low or anything! Just imagine, you could finally meet my wife!” 

A wistful smile tugged at the edges of his mouth but Tobirama found he needed a moment just to breathe. When his lungs were able to hold a full breath again he shook his head. “You always did live with your head in the clouds.”

“Oh come on, please? Think about it?” 

“Local crime families are always so...ugh. Boring.”

“Why must you be so difficult?” His brother asked, a smile in his voice.

“Is it so terrible that I want to do more with my time than tax fraud and guard duty?” Tobirama shot back.

Knowing that his brother couldn’t speak too explicitly just in case there was someone around to hear made it all the funnier for him to listen as Hashirama spluttered his way through a few sentences, trying to find a middle ground between ‘murder shouldn’t be considered fun’ and ‘neither of us has seen our morals since we were children’. His chest ached in a familiar way as he allowed his sibling to blather on. With every year that passed it only got harder and harder to remember that even just one meeting had the potential to tie Hashirama to him in the case he eventually got caught, ruining his most precious person’s reputation and tearing down everything Hashirama had spent a lifetime building up. 

Eventually the flow of words petered out until the two brothers sat in comfortable silence for several minutes, listening to each other breathe for the sheer comfort of knowing they were both still alive and safe, as safe as men like them could be. It was no surprise that Hashirama broke the silence first. 

“Don’t toss this until I call again, okay?” 

“The job is likely to take a while,” Tobirama admitted, “but don’t wait for too long. I can’t afford to leave trails just for sentiment.” 

“You can’t tell me what to do! Just for that I’m not hanging up until you tell me you love me!”

As well as they both knew each other, Hashirama should have known that was exactly the wrong thing to say. Tobirama took the phone away from his ear and raised one eyebrow in judgement. Then he tapped his thumb in the center of the screen, ending the call without a word, and tossed it down to the end of the bed. 

He fell asleep that night with a smile on his face but whether that smile was from imagining Hashirama’s offended squawk or from remembering a few choice bits of his conversation with Madara, well, that was for him to know.

Since there was a difference between eager and desperate Tobirama told himself very firmly that he was not going down to the bakery the next day. When he woke at a criminally early hour he snapped his eyes shut again, rolled over, and held the pillow down over his head until the darkness rose up to pull him down for at least another five minutes. Sleep had never come all that easily to him. The second time he woke it was still too dark beyond the flimsy curtains over his window but his body had long been trained to operate on as little rest as possible. Experience told him there was no use in continuing to just lounge around hoping for another dream that wouldn’t come. 

Both eyes snapped open wide when he heard the ding of an incoming text message. Considering the fact that only two people had this number and one of them was so busy it would probably take him days to remember to call again that didn’t leave a lot of options for who could be messaging him this early. Thankfully there was no one around to watch him shoot up in bed and start digging through the blankets like a madman trying to find his phone. When he did, Madara’s name stared at him from the lock screen with a preview of the message he’d sent. 

_ Mornings are evil. If you come in for a coffee today then I want no comments on the hair. _

Entirely against his will Tobirama felt a smile sneaking across his face, lifting the phone to unlock it and send a reply.  _ Why would I bother to comment on something that always looks like that?  _

_ Shut up! _ Madara’s reply appeared within seconds.  _ There’s a lot of it and it’s hard to work with! _

Not replying with an offer to do the man’s hair himself was almost a herculean effort. Tobirama didn’t even pay attention to his own response beyond making sure it wasn’t so blatantly romantic. A sexual offer might have been fine, something about pulling on it or messing it up even further, that at least would have furthered his agenda of getting the information he needed on this man to make him disappear, but a romantic gesture? Wanting to comb his hair for him? The phone slid through his fingers and dropped to the mattress as quickly as he had snatched it up. 

For a professional he really was making a lot of mistakes. Tobirama scrubbed his fingers through his own pale locks, pulling on the ends of it like he could pull all these unwanted thoughts right out of his head. How many times had he already reminded himself not to get more involved than a quick roll through the sheets or two? Maybe he should just back off a little. Obviously he was having a hard time keeping his heart out of this job so maybe it would be better to use different tactics than seduction. There were dozens of ways for him to learn what he needed to make this look like an accidental death or learn who to pin any suspicions on, getting personally involved with the target wasn’t exactly necessary. He’d done harder jobs from afar. 

A muted buzz made him look down. 

_ If it bothers you so much then fix it yourself! _

Blinking several times did not change the words on the screen. Tobirama stared, trying to decide which of the voices in his head to listen to. One of them muttered darkly that getting suckered in by one little flirtatious message should be beneath him. The other - sounding suspiciously like a certain older brother - whispered that there was nothing wrong with living his life every once in a while, consequences be damned. It should have worried him that the whisper was so much the louder voice. 

Instead he watched as his legs swung out from the bed and his fingers reached for a set of clean clothing, something plain enough not to look like he’d made an effort but well paired to compliment his body in a subtle kind of way. The sort of outfit one might wear to look good for a certain someone. He tried not to think on it too hard as his feet set out towards the front door almost without his permission, fingers tapping away at his phone.

_ How very forward of you, _ he sent. After giving the other man a few seconds to inevitably splutter he followed it with,  _ I might just have to take you up on that offer. _

No reply came but he hadn’t really expected one. Madara wasn’t that difficult of a man to figure out, Tobirama knew perfectly well that hadn’t actually been an offer. His only regret was not being there in person to watch that handsome, grouchy face turn red. On the other hand, considering how quickly he was moving through the apartment, it was safe to say he’d have all the opportunities he could want to see all sorts of expressions on Madara’s face. It wasn’t entirely clear when he had decided he would be having breakfast at the bakery again today; definitely not a conscious decision.

Outside the weather was unseasonably cool for approaching mid spring. Several of the people out and about had scarves wrapped around their necks and scowls on their faces as they glared up at the sky accusingly. All the resilience training in the world didn’t stop him from feeling the chill, though Tobirama knew he could handle any temperature extremes better than the people around him. Still he made a show of pulling his jacket tighter around himself before making the last turn just to give credence to the shivers he was faking as he walked in through the shop door. Kagami looked up from the till, spotted him, and immediately turned to start a fresh pot of coffee. Apparently he was already a regular. 

“Bit nippy out, ne?” the boy called. 

“Are you even old enough to work the hours you do?” Tobirama mumbled back, pretending to blow on his fingers. 

“Oh it’s fine, I’ve got a private tutor. My dad says all the schools around here are-”

“If you repeat the words your father usually follows that with I’ll be telling him about your language later.” Madara’s voice preceded him only by a few seconds, though several clumps of hair did as well. Somehow it looked like he’d done an even worse job of braiding that rat’s nest today than normal. 

Kagami pouted under the hand that ruffled his much shorter hair. “Uncle Madaraaa! How come grownups get to swear but I can’t?” 

“You’ve got to learn your manners first before you’re allowed to forget about them.”

Tobirama bit the inside of his cheek until the smile creeping up on him couldn’t be denied, growing only wider when he saw Madara’s eyes slide down to blink distractedly at his mouth. A little admiration never hurt the ego. 

“Large coffee today please Kagami. And - hmm. I think I’d like to try something new, care to make another recommendation?” He addressed his question to Madara, who puffed up a bit to be trusted with picking out Tobirama’s breakfast. After hemming and hawing over the options he’d already prepared for the morning he grabbed a sheet of wax paper and transferred two scones on to a small plate.

“Didn’t you tell me yesterday that you like walnuts? This is a blueberry walnut scone, one of my own recipes. I’d love your opinion.” He offered the plate over the top of the counter for Tobirama to accept with a smile. Both of them pretended not to hear Kagami grumbling under his breath for them to get a room. 

As if in retaliation Madara told his nephew to ring the whole lot up for half price before disappearing back in to the kitchen, one finger held up over his shoulder. Tobirama dutifully waited until the man reappeared with a mug of his own. Then he waited another moment as Madara refilled the mug and tried to quietly guess how many cups he’d already had this morning. Probably this was number four or five if he was as much of a caffeine fiend as he described himself but really who was going to try and stop him when coffee seemed to be the fuel behind such delicious treats coming out of that kitchen? 

With a smile on his face Madara waved a hand in an offering to follow so Tobirama chose the seats that looked like they would afford the most privacy from the other customers. He was glad that he’d done so when a giggly looking couple stepped inside as soon as his bottom touched his chair, one of the girls heading towards the counter to order while the other made herself comfortable on one of the couches where she sat making calf eyes at her partner. Just because he was in danger of wearing that same expression didn’t mean he wanted to see it on others. Tobirama shared a sneer with his own partner, both of them snorting in to their coffees at such blatantly emotional displays. Public affection was so embarrassing. Thankfully setting the other couple out of mind was as easy as letting his eyes pan upwards to take in the mess of Madara’s rat nest. 

“Does it count as a comment if-”

“Hey!” He was interrupted before he could even finish the sentence. “Yes, it does! I said no comments!” 

“Indeed you did. You also told me that I had your permission to - how did you put it? Fix it myself.” Tobirama buried his smile in his mug, deliberately taking a loud sip to punctuate his teasing. 

Madara rewarded him with a delightful blush. “Unless you happen to have a brush in your pocket I don’t see how you could.” 

“True, very true. I’d have to start the day with you to be of any real help.” 

It felt almost like the stars aligning to watch the other man slowly parse out the offer hidden in his words, cheeks darkening several more shades the moment it sank in. To his satisfaction, however, rather than flail about Madara turned his head in a poor attempt to hide a pleased expression. Tobirama wondered for a moment if he checked off as many boxes for Madara as the man did for him. His ego certainly didn’t need yet another boost but it couldn’t hurt. Probably. 

“Since I know you really don’t need any more coffee than you usually consume, instead of asking you out for a cuppa what would you say to meeting me for dinner?” A quicksilver smile over the rim of his mug had just the impact he was hoping for. He’d been told by many people he had a devastating smile on the rare occasions he brought it out; it was good to see he hadn’t lost his touch since the last time he’d actually engaged with other humans. 

“Oh, I don’t know.” Madara pretended to think about it. “Why don’t you convince me?”

“I’ll pay?”

“Ha! Think you can buy my time, pretty boy?” 

Tobirama grinned. “I’ll cook?”

“A-ah, you can cook? That’s...I can bake circles around anyone but my cooking always seems to come out subpar.” Madara swallowed with some difficulty as if being able to cook was doing more for him than just ticking off some boxes. Now that was interesting. Tobirama leaned forward in his seat and lowered his eyelids. 

“Yet another way we compliment each other, it seems,” he murmured. 

He would have been a little worried about just how many ways they fit together like puzzle pieces if he could be bothered to spare a thought for it but as he watched Madara squirm in his seat and try not to look too pleased there simply wasn’t so much as a single piece of his attention left for anything else. Learning to cook for himself had been a necessity; learning to cook well had been a personal preference for not choking down half burnt rice every day like his youngest brother Kawarama used to. Being able to fill his own plate with well balanced and tasty meals was one of the few luxuries he’d never tried to deny himself. 

If he had his way he would soon have the chance to afford Madara the same luxury. Only a few times, of course, he reminded himself quickly. It wouldn’t do to lose himself in the fantasy of welcoming this man home every night with a healthy meal and a fiery kiss. Such things were lovely to imagine but getting attached to the idea would be just as fruitless as letting his heart get attached to any of this- this- this beautiful farce that he was building for both of them. Tobirama took another sip of coffee to cover a sigh. He was already in over his head, wasn’t he? What a rookie mistake. 

For the non-existent record, however, he’d made worse mistakes in the past and come away unscathed. When all was said and done the worst he could see happening was his own heart breaking and as much as that didn’t sound like fun it certainly wouldn’t be the first time. He’d broken his own heart a hundred times over trying to love a father who didn’t love him in return. He’d broken it a hundred times more missing the brothers he couldn’t dare to stand beside. Once more could surely be nothing but another drop in the bucket and so he pulled his lips up in a grin that definitely looked as hungry as he felt. 

“How about you pick up the groceries and I’ll come over to your place tonight,” he suggested. “By the time I’m done you’ll never want to taste anyone else’s cooking ever again.”

“What do you want to cook?” Madara probably didn’t mean to sound so breathy but it was always nice to know the seductions were working.

“I’m happy to prepare anything you’d like to eat.”

One didn’t have to be a mind reader to know exactly what was going through Madara’s head at that moment. The way his eyes panned down the length of Tobirama’s body without a hint of subtlety said that his craving was not for any sort of food. The sheer heat in his eyes would have been flattering enough on its own even without the cute little blush on his cheeks that said he hadn’t meant to be so blatant about his appetites. 

“Ah, I do have one suggestion,” Tobirama murmured in his most innocuous tone. 

“Go on then.”

“If I were you I’d stop drinking so much coffee before tonight.”

“Huh? O-oh. Oh! Uh…”

The moment Madara understood what he was getting at could not possibly have been more obvious. Blatant hunger flashed across his face and the way he looked down to study his own fingernails did nothing to hide it. Tobirama studied him in turn for a moment before deciding that it wasn’t that he was shy but more likely that he just didn’t want his reply to be too blatant until he was sure that meant what he obviously thought it meant. 

It absolutely did but Tobirama had never been known for his mercy. He certainly wasn’t going to ruin the sport of watching someone else try to parse out his words. 

“Will it be a busy day for you today, do you think?” he asked instead. 

“Hoping I’ll be able to close up a little early?” Madara shot back. 

“Yes.”

“So blunt. Well, it’s only Tuesday and this is generally our slowest day of the week, so we probably will be able to close a little early if you’re so eager to come make me some dinner.” 

Tobirama sat forward so the slow roam of his eyes over the other man’s form would be all that much more blatant. “Eager is certainly an excellent word for it. Let’s see, the sign on the door says you typically stay open until about nine o’clock?”

“Yeah but I’ll need a bit of time to go shopping. There’s a grocer right around the corner from my place though so I’ll text you the address; meet me there at nine thirty?” 

“On the dot,” Tobirama promised. 

As a strict man of his word - when he cared to keep it - Tobirama arrived at the address Madara sent him exactly five seconds before his watch rolled over to nine thirty in the evening, smiling through the window of his cab to see the absolute struggle happening in the driveway. It looked as though a full grocery run had been picked up rather than just the necessities for one dinner and he was not surprised in the least to discover that Madara was the sort of person who wanted to take everything inside in a single trip. One arm had already been laced through four plastic bags, three hanging from his other, a case of water held tightly against his chest while he struggled to lift the other to close the trunk of his car. 

Even the cabby wasn’t bothering to hide a smile as he accepted payment for the ride and then tore off down the street, leaving Tobirama to wander up the driveway and pause just beside a very shiny looking Mazda. Madara paused in his attempts to reach the open trunk with so much weight bearing him down. Very slowly he turned his head to blink in the manner of someone caught in the middle of something they would rather not be witnessed doing. 

His face, Tobirama decided, looked best when his cheeks were painted in red. It was a good thing that seemed to happen quite frequently. 

“Would you like some help?”

“I might appreciate it,” Madara grumbled. “But I could have done it on my own!” 

“No one said you couldn’t.” 

“Hmph!” 

With a laugh he didn’t bother to hide Tobirama reached up to pull the trunk shut then pulled several bags off the arm not holding up a case of water. Madara grumbled his thanks in between several more insistances than he was perfectly capable of bringing in his own groceries. He was still mumbling under his breath when he led them inside the home that was somehow more decorated than Tobirama was expecting and yet also more spartan than he imagined. Several frames hung on the walls but none of them were photographs, only tasteful art. All of the walls were freshly painted but the shades were muted and the furniture dusty. 

Not that Tobirama really had any room to judge. His own permanent home existed as a cabin buried so deep in the woods that he rarely bothered to go there unless he was recovering from an injury or laying low after a close call. Something felt off about this place but another sweep of his eyes told him that he was only imagining things. Moving around from place to place the way he had for more than a decade was no doubt taking a toll on him. It was hard to remember the last time he’d actually been welcomed in to a house that was meant to be a home rather than a temporary base of operations. His instincts wanted there to be some deeper reason Madara hadn’t decorated more completely but that could easily be the result of putting all his money in to the business he owned instead of wasting it on decorative trinkets. 

Clearly he’d been working these kinds of jobs too often if he was starting to see shadows that weren’t even there. And just as clearly the group of men who contracted him this time had the wrong impression. They hadn’t exactly admitted anything outright but Tobirama had taken enough of these hits to know when money was the core motivation; he would laugh on the day they were all severely disappointed to find out there wasn't as much as they thought. Nothing in here really screamed ‘I have lots of cash’. 

“So,” he called out to his host in an effort to focus on more pleasant thoughts. “What am I making?”

As it turned out, Madara had been craving some nikujaga for several weeks. His excuse for not attempting to make some for himself was that it just never came out right and since it was one of his favorite meals he preferred to remember it as always delicious rather than whatever mess would have been made of his own poor skills. 

“How does a man who can whip up the lightest donuts I’ve ever seen manage to mess up something as simple as nikujaga?” Tobirama shook his head with a smile that didn’t fade even when Madara whapped him lightly on the shoulder in passing. 

“If I knew then I’d be the one cooking, wouldn’t I?”

“Now that does sound nice,” Tobirama mused. His fingers took up the potato peeler sitting in plain sight while his head tilted thoughtfully to one side. “I can see it now. You would make such a lovely house husband, yes. Cooking dinner and baking dessert and then - well. There’s no shame in having dessert twice.”

“Filthy!” Madara screeched. 

Tellingly, however, he moved away only for as long as it took him to prepare the tea kettle and then he was back with a knife in hand to help cut up the potatoes as they were peeled. If he happened to set himself just close enough for their arms to brush together whenever either of them so much as shifted Tobirama was certainly not going to ask him to move. He struggled to remember the last time he’d had an opportunity to enjoy this sort of casual contact, a rare sort of domestic intimacy. Even harder was trying to remember the last good example he’d seen of the same things. The closest that came to mind was the way Hashirama talked about his wife but Tobirama had yet to have the pleasure of actually meeting the woman beyond the sultry tones of her distant voice speaking in the background of late night phone calls. 

Cooking side by side with someone else was, he realized, quite possibly one of the most intimate things he had ever done, a different sort of intimacy than the base lust of getting naked together and satisfying bodily urges. Tobirama found himself both relieved and disappointed that the meal his partner chose took only a little more than a half hour to prepare - and that much only because they fell in to bickering once or twice and forgot about things like turning on the stove. It continued to surprise him how much fun it could be tossing half hearted insults back and forth with someone who wasn’t as delicate as to actually take offense. 

So lost was he in the rhythm of domesticity that Tobirama started trying to set the table on sheer instinct, foiled only by the fact that he had no idea where anything was. Instead he was forced to content himself with being pressed down in to a sturdy, unembellished chair while Madara stumped back and forth, bowls and cups and chopsticks all arranged with very little care. By the time he finally brought the actual food over Tobirama was practically drooling. 

And he wasn’t entirely certain which hunger was the more prevalent. 

Whatever other appetites were running just a little out of control he did have to admit that it had been so long since the last time he ate nikujaga that the first bite nearly sent him in to a state of nirvana the likes of which only good food could accomplish. One bite and for a moment he was transported back to the simpler days of childhood, the few years of peace he’d been able to eke out before his father decided that he was old enough for training in the arts no decent member of society should ever know about. Back in those days their mother had still been alive and her impressive kill count had meant nothing in the face of soft warm hands holding him close, cooking sweet meals, and tucking them all in to bed with promises that tomorrow would bring them nothing but happiness. 

“Damn, you look like your own food just transported you. It must be good!” Madara snickered even as he lifted a piece of beef to his mouth. His entire expression changed the moment it registered on his taste buds. “Holy shit. Okay, I’m there too. Damn! You weren’t lying about being a good cook!” 

“I have a wide variety of talents.” Tobirama was actually a little proud of himself for managing such a smooth tone. 

“Hn, I’ll bet you do.” 

Their eyes met and suddenly all doubts were gone. Or at least any doubts about whether or not they both had the same intentions for where tonight was going. Tobirama was positive he’d never been so blatantly undressed by someone’s gaze before. He was also unequivocally sure that he liked it. 

“Eat your dinner,” he murmured. “Then you can show me dessert.” 

Madara very nearly choked on his next bite but in a very telling show of enthusiasm he shovelled a second in like the thought of taking too long with dinner didn't bear thinking about. Clearly someone was feeling enthusiastic about the rest of their evening together. Not that Tobirama really had a leg to stand on since he was feeling fairly enthusiastic himself - if one could refer to the uncomfortable tightness below the waistline of his pants ‘enthusiasm’ without being too crass. 

“Doesn’t anyone else ever come over and cook for you?” he asked, striking up the first conversation he could think of. He told himself that he was only digging for information as he should be; for some reason that little voice in the back of his head was not convinced. 

“Nah, my brother hates this end of town,” Madara told him with a shrug. 

“Oh?”

“He says everyone down this way all walk around with their noses up their ass.”

Tobirama slowly chewed the bite he’d just taken. “Colorful.”

“Yeah, that’s Izuna.” Madara snorted, stabbing a potato like it had done him some personal wrong. “Colorful is probably one of the nicer words I’ve heard used to describe him. My brother’s not what you would call a nice person.” 

“It’s just you and your brother then? And your nephew, of course.” 

The two of them shared a quick smile. He’d only known the pair of them a short time but Tobirama could already agree that Kagami was a jewel in the rough, an absolute delight of a young man in the way he seemed to flourish under his uncle’s gruff affection without ever losing the shine from his brilliant smile. It didn’t take a genius to guess that approving of Kagami would get him in to Madara’s good graces very quickly but in this Tobirama found he did not have to pretend in the slightest. 

A very dangerous admission but he seemed to be just collecting those for fun at this point. 

“We had three other siblings, an older sister and the twins, they were the babies of the family. They were...short story is our house got broken in to when I was barely past my teens.” Madara chewed his bottom lip for a moment and then breathed deeply with the experience of bearing pain for many years. “So yeah. Now it’s just me and Izuna. Well, we’ve got a bunch of uncles and we see them pretty often but we’re not what you’d call close. They’re a bunch of old coots all stuck in the old ways.”

Definitely not a very sexy topic. Tobirama’s first instinct was, of course, to change course and steer their conversation away to more pleasant things that would lead to the bedroom he had intended to be invited in to. Instead his mouth fell open and against all practical reason he found himself responding in kind, past for past, though his filters kicked in just enough to censor his words in to something more acceptable than the truth. 

“I used to be one of four myself.” 

“Used to?” Madara asked in a voice as careful as his expression. 

“My second youngest brother passed away in an accident with my father.” Not a car accident, not really, though they had both been inside the car when an old rival had driven a freight truck straight through them. “Our youngest brother went on a trip when he was about thirteen. He never made it back home.” Tobirama dropped his eyes to the bowl in front of him, almost surprised to find the hurt could still be so raw after all this time. Not knowing what happened to Kawarama still did horrible things to his insides. Mostly because of all the horrible things he had done to other peoples’ insides, all the many ways he knew someone could have hurt his baby brother before the end. 

A hand with stubby fingers reached out to lay awkwardly across the back of his own. “Sorry,” Madara told him gruffly and Tobirama couldn’t help but give him a smile. 

“Either you are terrible at this or I am. Possibly both. This is awful conversation for a first date.”

“If you’re leaving the choice up to me then I’m gonna say it’s you.”

“Oh?” Tobirama leaned forward to rest his chin on one hand. “Go on then, I suppose you have something more pleasant in mind to talk about?” 

Smothering his laughter was just too much effort when Madara’s eyes immediately began to dart around the room as if physically searching for a new topic, something like panic in the way his jaw worked soundlessly. It really never got old watching his emotions flail about. After several moments he seemed to light up and jabbed one finger triumphantly in Tobirama’s direction. 

“Yes,” he declared. “I do have something more pleasant to talk about.”

“Pray tell.”

“Where did you learn to cook?” The question was followed swiftly by popping a sizable chunk of beef in to his mouth but Madara didn’t seem all that concerned with the way his cheeks had to puff out like a chipmunk to accommodate such a large bite. Manners that poor should not have been so cute.

“Self taught,” Tobirama admitted with a shrug. “One can only go so long living on microwave meals before one gives in and buys a cookbook or two.” 

Madara’s gaze darted to the shelf of very dusty looking books above his kitchen sink and nodded. “Well I’m glad at least one of us can get some use out of those things. The directions always felt just a little too specific for me.”

For some reason he didn’t seem to appreciate Tobirama’s laughter that any kind of instructions could be  _ too _ specific. 

“How on earth do you bake so well if you don’t follow the recipes?” 

“Shows what little you know! Baking isn’t done by instruction, it’s done by feeling.”

“That makes no sense,” Tobirama couldn’t help pointing out.

“You make no sense!” Eyes narrowed in a glare, Madara only seemed to realize how ridiculous that sounded long after it was already out of his mouth. 

The two of them continued to bicker for a little while but the heat behind their words did not match what they were saying in the slightest and Tobirama was thrilled all over again to have found someone who knew how to argue with him properly. He would never understand how so few people could wrap their heads around this method of communication. Clearly everyone else was wrong because Madara very obviously understood proper flirting when he saw it. Everything about this relationship had been so much easier to build than any of the other marks Tobirama had molded himself around in his efforts to seduce. 

It was nice, he mused, to be himself for once. Unfortunately that was as terrible as it was a boon and so Tobirama cast about for a way to get them firmly back on track. 

“Eat,” he commanded. “If you let this food go to waste by letting it get cold I won’t be cooking for you again until you beg for my forgiveness.”

“Hn, you think you can make me beg?” Madara snorted. 

Their eyes met across the table. Very slowly Tobirama lifted one eyebrow, pitching his voice low just to watch his companion shudder as he murmured, “Only one way to find out.”

After that little comment it was like suddenly they were in a race to see who could finish their food the quickest. On the one hand Tobirama wanted to mention that eating so quickly might end up giving one of them a tummy ache and ruining the plans they were both skirting around. But on the other hand that wasn’t a guarantee and if it got this delicious snack in to the sheets faster, well, he wasn’t going to complain about that. He’d already spent several nights since they met imagining just what he would do if he had such a chance as this and he wasn’t going to waste it now that he was here. Many and varied were his faults but stupidity was not among them. 

Surprisingly, Madara actually went back for seconds despite his visible eagerness to move on to the next course, as it were. Tobirama found himself strangely touched to see another person appreciating his cooking so openly, forcing him to stand and move about the kitchen cleaning up after himself just to fend off another wave of yearning for this quiet domesticity. It really was strange how determined Madara seemed to force him in to self discovery, all the more so when he was obviously unaware of the effect he was having. 

“Don’t even think about doing the dishes,” Madara rumbled at him when he reached for the kitchen taps. “You’re a guest  _ and _ you cooked. It would probably violate about a dozen social rules if I let you wash the dishes for me as well.”

“I was only going to rinse off my plate,” Tobirama protested.

A bold faced lie. He was absolutely just about to do the dishes, though it was more to occupy himself than any attempt to be nice. As his host had pointed out, he’d already been plenty nice tonight. 

“Mhm, why don’t I believe you?”

“Are you calling me a liar?” Pressing one hand against his chest probably made him look like he was clutching at his pearls but it got him a laugh so Tobirama decided he didn’t mind looking a bit foolish. 

“If I did, would you leave?”

Tobirama thought about that for perhap half a second before grinning. “I might be less inclined towards being gentle with you.”

He was utterly thrilled to see Madara return his grin with an extra flash of heat in those dark, pretty eyes. When his host stood up to bring the rest of the dishes over Tobirama very carefully did not move, not until Madara set everything down and deliberately stepped right up in to his personal space. Clearly it was time for the next course. There weren’t many other ways he could have interpreted the fingers tracing shapes around the buttons of his shirt and trailing down to ghost just above the line of his belt. 

“Liar.” Madara breathed. 

Never in his life had Tobirama moved so fast to kiss someone; never in his life had he been so desperate to. Sliding his fingers in to all that thick hair was every bit as glorious as he’d thought it would be, instantly tangled in the sort of way you never want to escape from. When their lips met it wasn’t so much of a soft first touch as it was a clash that punched a groan out of them both. Tobirama cupped both sides of Madara’s head and titled him to one side for a better angle, using his grip at the same time to pull them closer, shuffling forward until their bodies were pressed together from chest to thigh and all but drowning in the warmth of it. This is what he wanted. This he knew how to handle. Letting his body speak for him was a language he knew all too well, a way to speak as freely as he wished without fearing for the secrets he was spilling with every panting breath.

The fingers tracing shapes on his chest dug in to take fistfuls of his shirt instead and Tobirama spared a low rumbling chuckle for Madara's clumsy inability to even attempt the buttons. How endearing, how satisfying to know that with one kiss he had all but erased the man’s composure. 

Did they need to talk about how far this was going, he wondered? Madara didn’t seem all that interested in talking. For all his many and varied life experiences, the closest knowledge Tobirama had of how most normal people handled their relationships was from watching the occasional movie or TV show and the last time he’d tried to use such things as a reference Hashirama had scolded him. Apparently Suna Studios had a predilection for exaggerating things. Quite annoying, really, since without being able to reference such things he had no idea what exactly Madara was expecting to come out of this, whether it was meant to be a one night stand or if he had managed to stumble his way in to beginning an actual relationship. 

Such confusions would have to be cleared up later, though. Not now when thick fingers were tugging at the front of his shirt as though offended they were still done up and wordlessly demanding he resolve that problem. Tobirama grinned as he sank his teeth in to Madara’s lower lip.

“I’m going to assume,” he murmured in the miniscule space he was able to win between their lips, “that you don’t generally keep lube in the kitchen.”

“Nngg. Bedroom.”

“And where would that be?”

Instead of using his words like a fully functional human being Madara answered by stepping backwards and tugging him along. Moving down the hall without separating involved a lot of bumps, a few new bruises, and several missteps that almost sent them crashing down to the floor. As it was they did manage to slam themselves in to more than one wall but Tobirama was pretty sure neither of them could really complain about that when they were both more than happy to take advantage of any surface against which they could grind their bodies together. When they finally made it to what looked like a well lived in bedroom they were both fully hard inside their clothing and Tobirama was as close to desperate as he had ever been in his life. 

When all was said and done he did have a job to do. There were very logical and unkind reasons for him to be here seducing this man. A person in his position would be smart to divide his attention between making a good show of himself and observing the room around him for possible leverage, gathering information to help him determine how best to make the inevitable kill look like an accident. Good intel could be found anywhere. And if he were at all good at his job - which he was - he should have been doing it. Yet when Madara toppled him down on to the mattress and immediately crawled over him to sit across his thighs he was the only thing that Tobirama could see. He was, in that moment, the only thing that existed in the entire world. Every thought of observing or learning went straight out the window, chased away by the palms skimming up his chest to cup his cheeks and draw him in to another kiss more fiery than he’d ever known a kiss could be. 

Undressing each other should have been a blur, should have been a frantic rush that left him naked and reeling. Instead Tobirama’s mind seemed determined to remember every detail, every stitch, every gentle whisper of cotton against skin, all the tiny little details of Madara’s expression with each new piece of clothing that fell away from them both. He told his hands to seduce and all they did was touch, caressing every inch of the body revealed to him like a masterpiece he might only have one chance to appreciate. If he weren’t so enraptured he would have been entirely confused. Madara was attractive, he wasn’t denying that at all, definitely his type in a way few people had ever managed to be. The thing was that he was also nothing more than a man. He was nothing more than another body with the same skin and the same muscles that so many others had, nothing a hundred different instagram models couldn’t outshine. 

So how, Tobirama wondered, could one very average person make him feel like he was sipping water for the first time after days stranded in the desert? 

“You got a preference?” Madara’s voice almost startled him when it came as a breathy whisper against his ear. 

“As long as I can see your face,” Tobirama responded. More honesty than he’d meant to give but the ability to care had already fallen away like the clothes scattered about the bedroom floor. 

He could tell his answer was at least appreciated by the shudder that rippled through the body still pressing him down in the sheets. Madara’s thighs felt good wrapped around his waist - would probably feel just as good wrapped around his head. A thought to examine later. Right now it felt more important to skim his hands up the obviously sensitive skin brushing against his own and smile to feel the man shivering above him. 

“If you want to watch my face then either we’re doing it like this or you’ll have to wrestle me to get me down. I like being on top.” Madara bared his teeth in a mockery of a smirk, a look that dared Tobirama to accept his obvious challenge. Well, it wasn’t like he’d ever been one to back down from an offer like that. 

Without another word Tobirama planted his feet and shoved his hips up in to the air, laughing openly when Madara cried out at the sudden movement, then followed the momentum with a twist that sent his partner tumbling to one side. It was the simplest thing in the world from there to push away from the mattress to roll over top of Madara, fitting himself between those deliciously muscled thighs he so admired. As soon as Madara had his bearings he glared as if to dispute how easy that had been. 

Not wanting the mood to be ruined, Tobirama was quick to lean down and nip at that pouty bottom lip. His reward was a groan and fingers burying themselves in his hair to keep him there. With his eyes slipping closed he didn’t see the hand flailing about above their heads but he didn’t really need his vision to guess what it was looking for, proven correct when a small tub of lubricant rapped him on the head several times. 

“Knock knock,” he drawled. 

“Come in,” Madara replied in a sultry tone that startled a helpless bark of laughter out. 

“That was terrible, I regret being here.” 

Thankfully his partner shared the same bad sense of humor and laughed with him instead of yelling for him to just leave then. 

“You started it, you know!” 

“Shut up and let me fuck you,” Tobirama grumbled with a marked lack of any true irritation in his words. 

Either those were the magic words or no one had ever been so brazen as to make such demands of him but either way Madara didn’t have much of a response to that. All he did was shiver and spread his legs a little wider in an invitation that Tobirama was all too happy to take. 

For someone as grumpy and constantly on edge as Madara it was hardly a surprise to find that he would be so tight. Nor that the tub of lubricant should be so close to empty, considering that. The quick peek Tobirama managed to get told him there might be just enough but that any ideas he might have about round two would have to count out penetration as an option. Not the end of the world, really. Just the flashfire image in his mind of that pretty mouth wrapped around his cock was enough to have him twitching eagerly. That was getting ahead of himself, though. He knew better than to assume without asking that his partner would even be interested in doing more than simply existing after he fucked the man as deep in to the mattress as he was capable of. 

One finger slid in quite nicely and Tobirama rather happily distracted his partner with biting kisses until he managed to work in another, at which point Madara threw his head back to stare up at the ceiling with glassy eyes, mouth stretched open in a soundless oh. Since he was obviously preoccupied with the pleasure of being stretched Tobirama took the wordless invitation to sink his teeth in the neck all but calling out to him. Tendons flexed against his teeth until the lips close to his ear let out a groan that sounded as though it had been punched out, a vocal grinding that made his breathing hitch, so of course he did it again. 

“Fuck’s sake hurry up!” Madara whined. “I’ll die of old age before you get inside me!” 

“Should have known you’d be an impatient one.” Tobirama snickered and gently kissed away the sting his teeth had left behind. For some reason the gentle touch seemed to affect his partner almost more than any of the other ways he was currently working to overwhelm them both. 

“God- fuck- fucking- just more, okay!? More!” 

“Demanding too. Also should have expected that.” 

Still, he did subscribe to the belief that everything was better when both parties were enjoying themselves to the fullest. It cost him nothing to give in. Considering how tight the man was it probably wasn’t the most comfortable thing to have another finger press in without taking a little more time to loosen the area but Madara seemed to enjoy it. Tobirama grinned, kissing his way around the bites mark he’d left. How wonderful to finally lay with someone who aligned with his tastes so perfectly. Gentle was nice if he was in the mood for it - a rare occasion. Most days he preferred the fast and rough, the desperate rush and the digging fingernails and the race to see who could wring a mind bending orgasm out of the other first. 

Despite the fact that most of the effort had been on his own part so far he was still willing to hedge his bets on Madara winning that particular trophy. Just listening to the glorious beast beneath him was a delicious treat tempting him towards an early end. Thankfully his self control was much, much better than to let that happen. Getting this close to nirvana and letting it end because he couldn’t keep his own dick in check would probably be the biggest shame of his entire life. 

Madara squirmed impatiently underneath him and Tobirama retaliated with a vicious twist of fingers at exactly the right angle. All those hours of learning the finer details of human anatomy paid off with one scream from Madara’s lips. Seeing the fruits of his labors appreciated so openly was always nice. 

“Hate you so much right now.” Through the teeth-clenching pleasure his words sounded more like strangled moaning than actual speech.

“No you don’t,” Tobirama corrected him as airily as if he weren’t currently three fingers deep in another man’s body. “I might even be so bold as to posit that you like me. Just a little, of course.” 

Madara’s jaw worked soundlessly for a moment, one leg thrashing in a way that looked very much against his will. When he finally managed to get his own body marginally under control he reached up to twist his fingers in Tobirama’s hair and pull him back over for a searing kiss. Then, of course, he growled in the space between them, “I would  _ like _ for you to get inside me any fucking time now!” 

Far be it from Tobirama to decide when someone else felt ready. Personally he would have liked to do just a little more stretching but, then, for all that he liked it rough he knew his ass didn’t. He’d only known the guy a coupe of weeks and already he was willing to bet that Madara’s body was made of tougher stuff than his own, a natural resilience instead of one built through decades of hard conditioning.

Crooking his fingers inside before pulling them out was probably unnecessary. Listening to the elongated groan dancing across his ears, he figured it was a good choice anyway. He looked around for the tub of lube and peeked inside, hoping there might be just a little bit left. To his delight there indeed was, just enough to coat his palm and take himself in hand, smoothing the way that little bit extra so he could be sure there would be no unintentional discomforts. If Madara wanted to be held down or fucked rough that was a different story. He was well on board for either of those. The difference was that he could control those things and prevent serious injuries, something he couldn’t be certain of if they didn’t happen to have enough lube. 

Shuffling around on the bed to reposition himself was never something that looked very graceful in his opinion. Bed springs creaked and squealed under his knees until he was able to fit his pelvis in to the cradle of Madara’s open thighs at just the right angle. Rutting up against the opening already stretched and waiting earned him an impatient grunt but, surprisingly, Madara said nothing to hurry him along. Either he was beyond words at the prospect of getting what he wanted or he’d finally realized that his sass would only get him more of the same in return. 

Tobirama wanted his strange new focus to pay attention to every moment of this, savor the memory in its entirety for as long as he could before the remembering was too painful. Such were his intentions, anyway. Savoring was hard though when the moment he took himself in hand to guide his cock inside the other man it felt as though time began to blur around him. Patience and concentration flew out the window immediately. Even more so when his partner bucked up and instead of easing his way in he sank several inches deep all in one go, stealing the breath straight out of his lungs in a groan he’d never heard from himself before. 

“Fuck you’re a tight-ass,” he heard himself say.

“I need you to get on with fucking my tight ass!” Madara ground out, jaw clenched and hands clawing at the arms bracketing him down on the mattress. 

“My-  _ oh shit _ . My pleasure, believe me. Just-” 

Beyond words, Tobirama shifted his weight on to one hand so he could slip the other under one of Madara’s thighs, pushing it up to meet that glorious broad chest he very much planned to leave at least a few marks on. Not even fully inside he could already tell that this angle was going to be so much better. It certainly made it a lot easier to roll his hips in small circles until his pelvis was flush against his partner’s and Madara was babbling nonsense in his ear about how good it felt. Definitely a sentiment he couldn’t help but agree with. 

He meant to keep his eyes locked on the other man to enjoy seeing the pleasure he was giving. He meant to go slow, part of that savoring he had also meant to do. He meant to stay entirely unattached to the man he knew he couldn’t have. Instead his eyes fell closed and Tobirama let the sensation of time warping blanket him in the hopes that it meant this would never end. Gasps and moans and the occasional scream make glorious accompaniment to the lewd sounds of their skin slapping together and the harsh rasp of his own breath tearing his throat as he struggled for air. It was just sex, he told himself. Nothing more than a physical release of tension, an animalistic desire, something he could easily walk away from when it was all over. 

Fingers wove through his hair to pull him down and Tobirama lost himself in the taste of Madara’s mouth. Lost his sense of anything outside the tight heat surrounding him or the perfect rhythm of their bodies moving together. Madara, he thought distantly, really would be good at riding him if his hips were flexible enough to move this much while he was pinned down under six feet of hard earned muscle. 

As far as he could tell that was the last coherent thought Tobirama had. Whether or not he made a good showing of himself he had no idea, minutes or hours could have passed him by and he would never have known, too caught up in the clench of muscle, droplets of sweat beading on skin, tongues and teeth and gripping fingers, all set to the exquisite symphony of the voice in his ear growing more and more desperate with every thrust.

How strange that after everything he had been through and all the corners of the world he had conquered, this should be the one thing that made him feel so powerful. 

Tobirama knew his own body well enough to know when his climax was fast approaching. What he lacked at the moment was the wherewithal to do anything to steer away from that path. In the back of his mind he very much hoped that Madara was as close as him because he certainly wasn’t thinking clearly enough to stave himself off even for a few seconds. Every snap of his hips was like carving out a place to belong and the lure of it was as irresistible as it was dangerous - which obviously only made it all that much more irresistible. He wouldn’t lead the life he did if he wasn’t just a little bit fond of danger. Civilian he might be but Madara still managed to exude just the right aura of competence that attracted him like a moth to a flame. He knew damn well he was burning himself with every thrust yet all he could do was snap his hips just a little harder, lean in to kiss just a little deeper. 

Fingers clawed around the back of his neck to pull him in even as Madara turned his head away to give himself room for gasping. 

“Need-  _ shit _ ! Almost- gimme your fucking hand or I swear-”

“Anything,” Tobirama promised him with the taste of honesty lashing across his tongue like fire. “I’ll give you anything you need.” 

Reaching down between their bodies was just a little difficult with how tightly he had pressed himself in to the man below. With more enthusiasm than grace he managed, wrapping one hand around Madara’s length and wishing he could spare the attention to admire what it looked like against his own pale skin, thick with arousal and flush with desperation. The reward of a broken shout in his ear more than made up for not being able to see - though it was hardly a terrible view up here, either. Madara’s expression was resplendent as he fell over the edge, even if Tobirama had only the space of a single heartbeat to admire it. 

Then his teeth gnashed together with shock for how tightly Madara clenched around him and he was utterly, entirely lost. His orgasm crashed through him with all the force of a falling building. If he’d been standing it would have folded him in half with the sheer overwhelming pleasure. Thank all the gods he’d never believed in that he wasn’t standing, that he could slam himself back inside that warm and welcoming body one more time and fall still, burying his face in Madara’s neck to hide the way he was falling apart piece by piece, little by little and all at once, leaving himself behind as surely as he would take this man with him when he left. 

“Good...god…” Madara’s voice drifted by him eventually. 

Tobirama cracked one eye open to stare at the sheets and wondered how much time had passed while he floated in the endless nirvana of post orgasmic bliss. A curious grunt sufficed for an answer, not quite able to form words again just yet.

“Next time you’re bending me over and fucking my face in to the mattress.”

“Unsatisfied?” 

“Oh no, I am- mmm. I am very satisfied.” Madara wriggled one leg until he could free it from between their bodies and stretched out with a low moan. “Just saying. If it was that good the first time imagine how much better it could be if you bend me over and get in real deep? God. I might die. What a fucking way to go.” 

He couldn’t help it. Tobirama snorted with laughter and burrowed deeper in to the sweaty, welcoming skin of Madara’s neck. “Why are you like this?” 

“Shut up.” A light shove on his back did nothing but move his liquified muscles around. “You like me this way.”

“I do. I really do.”

Uncomfortable with facing the full depth of that truth, Tobirama gathered his strength and pressed himself upwards, allowing his arms to shake for no reason other than to allow his partner to see just how affected he was. It wouldn’t be fair if only his own ego came away from this experience puffed up like a peacock. 

Separating their bodies felt more like a loss than Tobirama imagined losing one of his own limbs would have. His choice of how to complete this job was getting more and more dangerous with every hour he spent in Madara’s presence. It would have been prudent to detach himself the moment he realized what was happening. It would have been smart to save himself from the worst of the fallout. There probably weren’t words for the level of stupidity he exhibited by instead rolling over and pulling the other man close, reaching over to the bedside table for some tissues he’d spotted so he could clean both of their bodies with gentle touches and tender words whispered in the heated air between them. He hadn’t even finished wiping away the residue of their first time when his fingers brushed against Madara’s interest in a second. 

With a laugh Tobirama shut the rest of the world out of his mind and rolled them again until his partner sat astride his hips. 

“Let’s see if you can ride me to a faster end,” he challenged. The light in Madara’s eyes was all he needed for an answer. 

Since he’d already determinedly set his feet on the path to self destruction Tobirama saw no extra harm in staying the night. Which, of course, turned in to staying for the morning, buttering toast side by side and failing entirely at any efforts to keep their hands off of each other for more than five minutes. Dressing for the day was difficult when all either of them wanted to do was tear their clothes back off but somehow they managed. Lounging at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee and watching Madara yawn his way around the stove making subpar eggs was almost achingly peacefully in a way he never thought he would experience. 

This, he realized, was probably the sort of thing Hashirama got to experience every day. Having these little moments that could have such a heavy impact, this was why his brother had chosen a different path. 

“What’s wrong?” Madara’s voice startled him out of his reverie to discover he was staring wistfully across the kitchen with his coffee stalled halfway up to his mouth. 

“Ah, nothing’s wrong. I was only mourning the hours I’ll have to spend until I can get my hands on your body again.” 

By the startled yet pleased expression his partner tried to hide, Tobirama guessed his smooth words had done the trick, turning attention away from whatever expression such thoughts had put on his face. Where had his self control gone, he wondered. It should have been so much easier to push this all in to the back of his mind and compartmentalize it like he always had. Maybe he was getting too old for this life. Ridiculous when he was barely past the cusp of thirty but a possibility all the same. 

“Gonna be more than just a few hours, I’m afraid,” Madara said. “I’ll need to put in a few extra hours at the bakery for the next couple days because I’m going away this weekend. My family gets together a few times a year and I’ve never really added much to the mix but if I don’t go they always notice. And I always get an earful about it.” His nose wrinkled with adorable distaste. 

“You did mention that you don’t get along with your uncles.” Tobirama asked, latching on to the topic just a little too hard. 

“Eh, it’s not that we don’t get along, per se. More that they all expected me to do something...a little different with my life. I don’t really add to the family name quite the way they all wanted me to.” 

“They disapprove? I would think it’s impressive that you own your own successful business at this age.”

Madara shrugged. “I still do my part but they had expectations and I didn’t meet them. I’m not really heartbroken over their disapproval, to be honest. The people I actually like stand behind me and that’s all that matters.” 

Gently running one finger around the rim of his cup, Tobirama looked down in to what little coffee was left as though he might find the meaning of life hidden therein. 

“I’m glad you have that, at least.”

“What about you?”

He looked up to see Madara peeking over one shoulder at him. “What about me?”

“You mentioned there was still one brother just like I’ve got. Where’s he at? Do you guys- wait...did you ever even tell me what you do?”

“I probably didn’t,” Tobirama admitted, laughing reluctantly. He wasn’t sure it said many good things about Madara that the man would let someone in to his home and bed without such basic information as a last name or what he did for work but that didn’t stop him from puffing out his chest a little. It was nice to know he was so desirable as to distract another from the very basics. 

“Don’t you dare say a word. Just, ah, go on then. What do you do for work?” Underneath his grumpy tone Madara looked well and truly embarrassed by his own misstep. 

It was enough for Tobirama to grant him the mercy of his first request, though he did allow himself a laugh just to make some time for coming up with a lie. 

“Nothing very fascinating. I work for an online trading company, a lot of tech work, contract stuff. Takes me out of the country pretty often and usually on pretty short notice.” He shrugged with a faintly apologetic cast to his expression and hoped the smug satisfaction he was feeling didn’t show. A fairly good lie for someone that was too stupid to prepare one beforehand. Yet another rookie mistake. 

On a positive note, however, he was quite proud of himself for slipping in the excuse of why he might just up and leave the area so suddenly. If Madara was as interested in continuing this thing between them as he seemed then that was definitely something he would grumble about to whoever he told about their blossoming relationship. Tobirama only barely resisted brushing off his sleeve. He might be making mistakes left and right but laying the groundwork now for a quick escape later without having to clean up his own presence, that was a good move. Even his wretched old man would have grudgingly approved of that one. 

As he thought, Madara immediately began to pout and bemoan the thought of him up and disappearing. Tobirama spent the rest of breakfast teasing him that the sex had clearly been so bad he would have to flee the country. Blatant lies that even a child could have seen through. Still, his partner seemed to take that as a challenge and before they had even finished their eggs they had set a time for another date that Tobirama rather skillfully managed to avoid offering his own ‘home’ for. 

Before they left he dragged Madara back to the bedroom and sat him down on the edge of the bed so he could take his time running a brush through the frankly ridiculous mass of tangled wire he called hair. He was a man of his word, after all, and self indulgent enough to insist he get his chance to do this. Maybe also enough of a masochist to sear the memory of it in to his mind. It never hurt to have a few good memories to warm him when the nights inevitably turned cold again. Madara left for work that morning with smoothly braided hair for probably the first time in his life and Tobirama’s only serious regret was not following him to work to see how badly his staff teased him over such an obvious clue of how they had spent their night. 

Well, that was his only regret until he stepped inside his temporary apartment, shut the door behind him, and fell back against it to slide down until he collapsed on the tiles making a mockery of a proper genkan. His legs sprawled out at awkward angles and both hands lifted to cover his face like he might somehow manage to hide himself away from the path he seemed determined to ruin himself with. Gods but he was an idiot. 

He knew better than this. He’d known better than this since he was a shaking preteen driving the knife between his first set of ribs and sobbing that Butsuma would make him do this, make him raise a pet and give all of his love to trusting amber eyes only to watch as he snuffed the life out of them himself. Something about Madara just pulled him in and made him forget every rule of self-preservation that he’d made for himself over the long, long years. Lonely was better than heartbroken. Empty was better than cracked and shattered. There had only ever been one person he trusted with the shell of his heart and even Hashirama he kept at a distance, knowing that if he were ever the cause of Hashirama’s pain in any way he would break with it. 

It took some time for the ringing in his pocket to break through the fog of self pity and when it did Tobirama’s fingers were listless as he fished the device out of his pocket. Seeing Hashirama’s number on the screen had him closing his eyes and dropping his head again; the idiot always did have some kind of sixth sense for when he was needed. 

“Something is wrong,” were his brother’s first words, harsh and sharp the way so very few people were allowed to see him. 

“What makes you say that?” Tobirama challenged.

“Because you’re not angry.”

For a moment those words baffled him, left him sitting on the floor and staring in to space as he tried to parse out what that could mean. When he finally realized he slumped even harder against the door with the weight of a revelation he was entirely unprepared for. When, he wondered, was the last time he’d set his anger down enough to notice he was using it as a shield?

“I think I’m in over my head.” The words were painful to say but he forced them out.

“Tell me what I can do to help. And don’t you dare say nothing, Tobi! I  _ can _ help you, even if all you need is someone to listen, and you know that I will. Now. Tell me what’s wrong.”

Covering his face again with his free hand, Tobirama spoke to the darkness behind his eyelids and tried to imagine the two of them were sitting in the same room. “This job...I don’t know. I let myself get attached.”

A long silence followed his words but listening to Hashirama breathing encouraged him to match the pattern. It was surprisingly calming. 

“You never let yourself get attached.”

“I know.”

“They must be something special,” Hashirama said, voice utterly devoid of any inflection. 

Tobirama snorted. “You can say  _ he _ , Anija, we both know where my tastes lie.”

“Oh shush, you know that’s not what I- Oh Tobi. My Tobi. I’m so sorry. What are your options?” 

“Thank you,” he breathed and he was infinitely grateful he wouldn’t have to explain what he meant by that, how much he appreciated that Hashirama was trying to look at this from his point of view without wasting time on fanciful dreaming. “The way I see it I’ve only got two options. Either I do the job and take the money or I refuse the job, lose the money, and still…” Lose Madara. Either way he would still lose Madara, the light he never realized he’d even wanted after so long in the darkness. 

Hashirama mulled that over. Neither of them so much as alluded to the option of just staying, there were just too many secrets to cover up and holes in his life that would be too easy to spot. How would he make money? What would he do when Madara noticed that his job didn’t actually exist? How would he explain the first time one of his old competitors showed up to try and kill him in the middle of the night - or how he could kill them instead without so much as blinking an eye? No, there was nothing about him suited to the life of settling down with some innocent civilian unprepared for the harsh realities he’d grown up with. 

Which left him only with the option of breaking himself in a way he’d never broken before. And worse than that he had no one to blame for it but himself. It would be a long time after this before he called himself a professional again. 

“To take the money would mean carrying the weight of this for the rest of your life.” Hashirama pointed out. 

“And to not take the money,” Tobirama countered, “would shred my reputation and make sure no client ever fully trusts me to get the job done ever again.”

“So. Okay. I’m going to say something and I want you to just consider my words. You don’t have to answer right now - probably shouldn’t answer right now - but you have to promise me that you will at least consider them. Pick them apart the way you do. We both know you’ve never really truly thought about something until you’ve turned it over to look at it from every possible angle.”

Letting the hand drop from his face at last, Tobirama took one slow breath in, held it, then let it back out. 

“Go on.” 

“The last time we spoke I told you about a family here that I’m working to get under control. But for a few of the elders who refuse to let the old ways die I have almost the whole lot of them on board. If I say jump they jump. And if I say stand down they stand down. But I can’t keep giving these people so much of my attention forever, I’ll need someone to keep a close eye on them to make sure they don’t try to break off on their own again.”

A snort escaped him. “The only fun stuff in this town happens on your watch?” 

“Precisely,” Hashirama chirped. The hilarity of listening to him try to talk about this without actually saying anything incriminating was almost enough for Tobirama to smile. Almost. 

“I’m guessing you’re trying to offer me that job?” he murmured. 

“No matter what protests you’ve already got building up in your head, I want you to consider this: a place to disappear in to, a place to come home to, an entire network of support. No more leaving town in the dead of night and no more answering to any client with enough money to point you in any direction they want. You could visit me.” Hashirama’s voice cracked ominously but he made a valiant effort to go on without letting his tears be heard through the phone. “And this job, the one you’re on now, just imagine what it would be like to walk away? Why care about that reputation when you could build a whole new one?”

“Anija, you’re missing the part where I don’t want to drag Ma-  _ him _ in to this shit.” 

His brother scoffed to cover the sound of clearing his throat. “So don’t. Lots of people make a policy of not bringing their work home with them.”

For all the man’s faults, Tobirama had to admit his brother was good at weaving a pretty picture. Both of them had been trained to handle a dozen different weapons before they hit puberty but Hashirama’s most deadly weapon had always been his words. The knack of inspiring loyalty, of convincing other people they actually wanted to do what he was asking of them, that was what made him such a terrifying person.

Of course, not many people ever noticed the wool he’d pulled down over their eyes so it wasn’t like a whole lot of people knew the true terror they had elected to run their city. Tobirama wished for the first time in his life that he could be so naive. Oh for the blissful ignorance of simply following along the path laid out for him without ever thinking to question why. 

“Are they annoying?” he asked. “This family of yours. If you want me to think about it I need to know a little more about them.”

“I find them very engaging.”

“Which means…?”

“Your idea of annoying and mine have always been wildly different,” Hashirama laughed. “For context they used to be quite a massive family but over the years their numbers have dwindled so they don’t hold quite the same clout as they once did but...I think...they seem happy to have a bit of guidance, you know?” 

Tobirama ran stiff fingers through his hair and tried to think about that a bit. He knew what his brother was trying to say. Should he agree he wouldn’t be some random flunky adding to the long lists of petty crime in Konoha, no. He would be stepping in as something close to the head of the family with the understanding that he answered only to Hashirama. Now there was one authority figure he would never really mind answering to. He would happily follow Hashirama right out in front of a firing squad. 

But he couldn’t help letting his thoughts twist in on themselves and lead him right back down in to the hole he hadn’t even started climbing out of yet. What about Madara? Honest, abrasive Madara, holding his heart in one hand and a god damned donut in the other. For the space of a single heartbeat he imagined letting himself fall in love and leading this man down in to the shadows, living a life of darkness together as literal partners in crime. It was a lovely fantasy. With an attitude as big as the man had it was easy to picture him with a gun in hand and blood in his grin. 

Out of all the sins he’d committed in his life why did it feel like making that particular dream come true would be the one he finally sent himself down to hell for? 

“I don’t want to talk anymore,” he said abruptly. 

“I overwhelmed you,” Hashirama guessed. “Think about this. Get some sleep. I’ll call you again when I’m able.” 

Just like that his brother hung up, forever willing to indulge his particularisms just as he indulged the older man’s tics in turn. If nothing else the offer of working together again presented a great deal of temptation. 

Despite what his brother asked of him it was still much too early in the day to actually go to sleep again so Tobirama spent the next several hours alternating between meditation and going through routine sets of exercises meant to keep his body in peak physical condition. It would have been nice to have access to a gym with more space and equipment. Since he hadn’t had the forethought to sign his current persona up for any gym memberships he made do with the open space available in his apartment. At least with nothing more than the absolute necessities here there was indeed quite a lot of open space.

Close to noon his phone went off and it took a monumental effort not to immediately leap across the room and grab it. There were only two people with this number and only one of them would be sending him a text on what was clearly their lunch break. Tobirama closed his eyes and deliberately finished the set of pushups he was in the middle of before lowering himself to the ground and for several heartbeats did nothing but breath in to the dingy carpet. Telling himself he didn’t care what was in that text would have been probably the biggest lie he’d ever told in his life - and he’d once gotten away with posing as a four star general in order to gain access to military secrets he’d then turned around and sold to the highest bidder. Sometimes just remembering that particular accomplishment still made him question the general intelligence of the Kiri military forces. He really shouldn’t have gotten away with that. 

When a full minute had passed it felt much less like failure to reach for the phone and more like something he was deliberately allowing himself. Picking it up woke the screen, giving him a preview of Madara’s name and the message he’d sent. There was an emoji in it. While Tobirama might not spend a great deal of his time mingling with the rest of society he did try to stay on top of most things. He knew exactly what that eggplant was there to represent. A snort of laughter escaped him and he was unlocking the phone to reply almost before he’d read the actual message itself. 

Half an hour later Madara was sending grumbles about getting back to work and Tobirama looked around him in bemusement like he would be able to physically see where the time had gone. It was almost unfair how easily this man held his attention even when they weren’t in the same room together. 

The smart thing to do would be to encourage Madara back to work and make some kind of excuse to busy himself over the next few days, put some distance between them and get his head back in to the job he was supposed to be doing. All the times people had called him smart or clever or genius over the years felt sort of like they were swirling down a toilet as his thumbs danced across the screen to instead offer up another date tomorrow. Not tonight, of course. He was eager but he wasn’t desperate.

Alright, he was sort of desperate but there were only so many truths he could face about himself in one day and that particular revelation was not on today’s list. 

Waiting until the next evening to see Madara was just difficult enough that Tobirama found his thoughts turning to the question of why. Why, out of all the thousands of people he’d met in his life, was this civilian baker the one he was contemplating throwing aside everything he’d built for? Tobirama could remember the incredulity he’d felt when Hashirama told him that he’d fallen in love. One date with this woman Mito and he’d known that he would overturn the world just to have her by his side. Tobirama hadn’t understood at all. In fact he’d mocked his brother freely and called him a walking romcom cliche. 

He really was lucky that Hashirama wasn’t nearly as petty as he was or the mockery for this would never end.

It felt like a half dozen weeks had passed in the hours it took him to wait for just the very next day but by the time he was leaving the apartment complex to meet Madara he’d done little more than dig himself even deeper in to this unwanted attachment. Trying to talk himself out of falling in love had only led to him falling deeper, passing the time by going over all the many ways Madara appealed to him and realizing with no small amount of horror that he wasn’t likely to find these qualities all together in another human being. This was it. His one shot. Whether he blew it all in the end was still sort of up in the air, though Tobirama didn’t exactly have high hopes that he could salvage much of anything. After talking through it with Hashirama he did feel somewhat calmer, more accepting of the fate he’d carved out for himself. 

The front door of the bakery was half open when he arrived, a gangly teenager standing right in the middle without moving while one hand busily tried to shove an entire eclair in his mouth at once. It was such a ridiculous sight, so much concentration going in to such a simple thing, that Tobirama didn’t have the heart to disturb the poor thing in his efforts until finally the whole eclair had disappeared, leaving behind no traces but for the generous amounts of cream all smothered around grinning lips. 

“May I pass?” he asked once the kid finally noticed him. 

“Smph sphrry!” was his reply, long spindly limbs jumping out the way to hold the door open even as the kid scrubbed one hand across his face. “D-n’t m-n -oo!”

“You didn't mean to, I understand.”

Tobirama nodded solemnly and very carefully did not so much as crack a smile, only gave all that mess a wide berth in sliding past on his way through the door. He was only a foot or so passed the entrance when the boy must have finally chewed his way through enough dough to form words properly.

“Sorry, ‘ttebayo!” 

When he looked over his shoulder the boy was already racing away down the street, door swinging shut carelessly behind him. Tobirama lifted one eyebrow, allowing himself a moment to admire the freedom of youth, then turned away without letting himself think of how that was something he’d never had. It wasn’t something he’d ever felt the lack of before either; what was the point in mourning something he’d never had any interest in? 

Other little boys had played with their plastic army men and their nerf guns while he was tramping his way through the woods with a beretta in one hand and blood dripping from the other so really. Who had the better childhood? 

“There’s more scones about to come out of the oven.” Kagami’s voice drew his attention towards the front of the store. “If you want to wait, like, half a minute you can have one fresh right out!” 

“Sounds good to me,” Tobirama agreed with a smile. 

“Awesome! Anything else?”

“When did I become enough of a regular for you to smile at me like that? Just a coffee, Kagami, thank you.” 

Behind the till Kagami chuckled but his only answer was to give the order’s total - half price, Tobirama noticed. Either Madara had issued some kind of decree or the boy was just handing out employee discounts left and right. Whatever the case it was keeping money in his pocket so instead of fighting the point he simply handed over a few coins and nodded in thanks when given his coffee. Hovering around the counter would have felt just a little more awkward if there were anyone else in the shop but this place really was sleepy, not another soul in sight for the three and a half minutes he spent listening to Kagami chatter about the calculus homework he’d brought with him to struggle through on his break. 

Tobirama was in the middle of trying to explain what a limit formula was when a large dark mass appeared in the corner of his eye. A dark mass with several tendrils sticking out at weird angles. He was already smiling long before peeking over to see Madara grinning back, one hand brandishing a small plate piled high with treats. 

“Gimme two seconds,” his partner said. “I’ll bring these right out.” 

“Service with a smile from the owner himself? My, my. I must be something special.”

“Must be,” Kagami agreed after his uncle had disappeared again. When Tobirama gave him a startled look he shrugged. “I mean I’ve seen a boyfriend or two come through here before but I’ve never seen him come out of the kitchen for them so often. He really likes his job.”

Entirely unprepared for his own reactions to that, Tobirama wobbled across the shop to the chair he’d already mentally claimed as his favorite spot and let his body flop gracelessly in to it. Focusing on the still too hot coffee felt a lot safer than whatever thoughts were trying to drag him back in to madness. Thankfully one sip was all it took. Immediately his eyes rolled back in his head and a quiet groan slipped out as the caffeinated nectar danced across his tongue.

“Always nice to see my products given the right appreciation.” Madara dropped in to the seat beside him with an almost hungry expression. 

“Not your product,” Tobirama pointed out, laughing when his partner deflated. “You’re not even the one who brews it let along the one who grows the beans.”

“So cruel. Here I am treating you so nice with fresh baked goods and you’re being cruel!” 

“That about sums it up, yes. Problem?” 

Madara dropped the act with an unrepentant chuckle. “No, not really. Just thought I should let you know that I’m on to you.”

“Are you now?” Only his iron control kept Tobirama from letting the wash of emotions that ripped through him then from showing on his face. For no reason other than to have something else to do with his muscles he brought his cup of coffee up and smirked at his partner over the rim, heartened to see the man smile back. “Tell me, whose favor could you possibly be trying to buy, having a fresh batch of these cooked and ready just in time for closing hour?” 

Listening to the embarrassed spluttering his question brought on was soothing, endearing in such a way that he could only let it go on before saying something else to distract himself. 

“Do we have any specific plans for tonight?” he asked. 

“Hmph.” Madara regained himself by crossing his arms, valiantly pretending he wasn’t wearing a pout. “Nothing too set in stone, why? Did you have somewhere you wanted to go?” 

“Not really. Just curious.” 

“Oh, alright. I thought maybe we could go for a walk downtown and talk shit about all the weird people we see.” 

Tobirama blinked once before throwing his head back with a bark of laughter. “Already you know me too well, that sounds like a wonderful time. Make sure your data is turned on. We’ll find as many other bakeries as we can and leave them bad reviews so you can poach their all customers.”

He was delighted to see Madara catch a hand against his own chest and pretend to swoon. How lovely to see his evil genius being appreciated.

Walking together downtown turned out to be even more of a pleasant time than expected. Light exercise and good company would already have been nice but not having to sit through some boring socially acceptable date like going to the movies or something only made it all that much sweeter. He would have done it if that’s what Madara wanted, of course, but he couldn’t help breathing a heavy sigh of relief to know that Madara didn’t and that both of them had very similar ideas for what constituted a good time. 

As promised, the two of them made a game out of who could spot more bakeries or cafes and they took no small amount of pleasure in coming up with the most ridiculous negative reviews to leave online - across multiple sites, of course, so their rash of pettiness wouldn’t get flagged by anything. Tobirama’s personal favorite was Madara’s very sincere review denouncing the staff for not letting him physically lick the plates clean. Playful, stupid, and utterly pointless because all most people cared about was the star rating, very few actually taking the time to read the comments with them. One of the shops actually spotted them loitering outside while they looked it up online and offered them free samples. It was with a great deal of pleasure that Tobirama offered him a scathing review in person of why exactly his crumpets were not up to par. Getting pulled in to the closest alleyway for a searing kiss was merely a fringe benefit of something he’d already thoroughly enjoyed. 

Close to two hours had passed before Madara conveniently noted that they were wandering close to his neighborhood and suggested they wrap up their evening at his place. Tobirama made sure to lift one eyebrow just so they both knew he wasn’t fooled in the slightest but he did follow along with no more protests than that. 

Madara’s home was the same mix of oddly barren and warmly inviting as it was before, calling Tobirama inside like some voiceless siren song only he could hear. After kicking off their shoes near the front door they folded in to each other on the living room couch. It was, Tobirama noticed, a very nice couch. The moment he sat down his entire body almost seemed to melt down in to the cushions and he found himself thinking that staying right here in this exact spot for the rest of his life wouldn’t really be so bad; at least he’d be comfortable. 

“What kind of movies do you like?” Madara asked, reaching for the remote for his massive television. 

“Depends. Are we actually going to watch it?” 

The sharp grin Madara flashed him lit a flame in his belly he didn’t bother denying. “If we were actually going to watch it what sort of movie would you like?” 

“I...don’t really watch a lot of media,” Tobirama admitted. “I suppose anything is fine? Just throw on something you like. Although I should warn you that if it’s some kind of deep romance crap I may start gagging.” 

“Oh good lord, no. No no no. I’ll leave that kind of shit for my brother to pretend he doesn’t devour when there’s no one else home.”

“Ah, you’re also related to a pile of human sap?”

Madara laughed and Tobirama did what he could to pretend he wasn’t tracing the shapes of joy on the man’s face, committed every microexpression to memory. If this wasn’t masochism he didn’t know what was but he couldn’t truly bring himself to regret this. Any of it. 

“I wouldn’t really call Izuna a sap. Well, not where he could hear me anyway. He’s got a real soft spot deep down but he would rather throw himself off the top of his apartment building than let anyone know it’s there. Honestly I’m pretty sure his wife knows but doesn’t say anything just to let him think he’s being all sneaky - but I mean come on, every time she’s out for a night she comes back to a pile of damp tissues in the bin and some new trash in their Netflix history.” Shaking his head, Madara jammed a few buttons on the remote to bring up the very service he’d just mentioned. “He must have gotten dropped on his head as a kid or something. That might explain why he’s too dumb to cover his tracks.” 

“Something tells me that I should never meet you brother,” Tobirama murmured. His partner gave him a startled look. 

“What? Why?”

Both corners of his mouth turned up in a vicious smirk. “He sounds like exactly the sort of person I would love to poke at and I might not be great at this whole dating business but I’m pretty sure one of the golden rules is to play nice with your partner’s family.” 

He relished in the sounds of Madara’s harsh laughter that followed, unbelievably proud of himself for drawing out so much joy from a man so predisposed towards irritation. It made him wonder if previous boyfriends had made him laugh this much, though he knew better than to ask. No sense in opening that can of worms. Tobirama wasn’t very sure whether or not he was the jealous type, never having allowed himself to get close enough to anyone to find out, and now certainly didn’t feel like the time to explore such thoughts. 

After poking a few buttons to zoom through the selection Netflix offered, Madara settled on a TV show that looked like it had more action than plot and Tobirama did what he could to refrain from pointing out all the terrible mistakes in it. Civilian Tobirama was allowed to be fit, lots of people worked out, but revealing how deep his knowledge of hand to hand combat went would require a lot more explaining and the best lies were always the ones with the least details. Better to just keep his mouth shut and never open the subject at all. Thankfully he was distracted barely a handful of minutes after the show started when Madara turned to him with hot eyes running down and the back up the length of his body. 

“I see I was right,” Tobirama murmured. 

“About what?” Despite the curious tone Madara didn’t look like the answer mattered very much, too busy crawling across the scant few inches between them to press their bodies together. 

“We were never going to actually watch anything.”

“Bah, making out on the couch sounds like so much more fun, doesn’t it?” 

Since he wasn’t wrong Tobirama opted to answer by pulling the man in until their lips met and then they were speaking an entirely different language, one he didn’t think he could ever grow tired of. When one solid leg threw itself across his lap Tobirama only hummed and welcomed the form draping itself over his own. Lifting his hips to grind them together was so much easier than thinking about anything that existed outside these walls.

They were both panting with their clothing loose and their hands tracing patterns in interesting places when Madara suddenly jerked like he’d been hit with lightning. It wasn’t hard to connect his reaction with the small vibration coming from the pocket of his jeans and the strange chirping melody that accompanied it. With a scowl deep enough to leave permanent lines, Madara pushed up on to his knees so he could dig in to the pocket for his cellphone. At first Tobirama thought he meant to turn it off, toss it aside, or maybe even answer it just to tell whoever was calling to fuck off. He was surprised to see all emotion drain from that beautiful face, replaced instantly with a mixture of emotions that immediately spawned a thousand questions, all of them very nosy but very concerned. Who, he wondered, could inspire both fear and disgust and resignation all at the same time? In a man who ran his own cozy little bakery, no less. 

Madara peeked up at him with regret clear in his eyes but Tobirama waved him off. 

“Life doesn’t stop for pleasure,” he said. “If you have to take the call I’ll still be here.”

“Thanks.” 

Grumbling dire threats under his breath, Madara climbed off Tobirama’s lap and jammed one finger in to the phone screen, accepting the call. His first words were hissed through clenched teeth as he stalked away in to the kitchen with one hand keeping his jeans from sliding down. Despite the distance he put between them his naturally strident voice carried most of the words back to where Tobirama lounged by himself, entirely unbothered by his own state of undress. The polite thing to do would have been to call out a warning that he could still hear the man in case the conversation turned sensitive. Unfortunately Tobirama had never been terribly polite. 

So instead he stretched out his legs to enjoy the light cracking of his left knee and idly listened, not really expecting to hear anything life changing but unable to shake the habits of a lifetime. Information gathering was a massive part of his job - and he was technically supposed to be doing his job right now, though he’d come today determined to allow himself even just one night of selfishness, one date with no ulterior motives.

If he’d been in a proper mindset maybe it wouldn’t have been so shocking to suddenly hear Madara growl from the kitchen, “Yeah well you’re the one cooking the books, I’m just the man in front baking pies, what do you fucking want me to do?” 

Tobirama blinked up at the ceiling above him. Something like shock settled over him and left him with too many thoughts and yet absolutely nothing in his head simultaneously, a state he’d heard many people describe but never truly experienced himself before. It had to be shock. Just the fact that he was spending so much brain power trying to identify the feeling instead of focusing on the real issue was very telling. 

One little sentence wasn’t all that incriminating. There were a dozen ways Madara could have meant that innocently, speaking in metaphors or exaggeration for the sake of making a point. He could have been talking to his accountant and deliberating trying to piss the man off by implying something illegal. Without more context Tobirama didn’t really have much room to leap to any conclusions just yet and he knew all too well the dangers of making assumptions without proper facts to back them up. It had taken only one mission gone wrong when he was still young and untested for him to learn that lesson well.

His own phone almost seemed to leap to hand without conscious decision. Tobirama watched his thumb unlock the screen and open the internet. Gods but he hated using the internet on mobile. Everything was always twice as difficult and four times too small but - but still it took him only a handful of minutes to open the right banking app from bills he’d seen left out on counters and punch in an account number he’d memorized out of sheer habit and then there it was. Guessing Madara’s password was about as easy as most people’s. Seeing the truth laid out so bare left him reeling as if the earth itself were tilting underneath the couch holding him up. 

Digging deeper was as easy as letting years of experience guide his fingers through finding the well hidden articles, records, private things he shouldn’t have been able to access with nothing but an ordinary mobile phone but really so few businesses understood how insecure their websites and servers really were. All the things that he’d missed in his first round of research seemed to almost leap off the screen and slap him across the face in rebuke, things he could have easily known weeks ago if only he’d thought to look for them. Watching the full picture unfold in front of his eyes stole the breath from Tobirama’s lungs until he couldn’t take it anymore.

He was up on his feet without thinking about it, floating across the room in a state almost outside of his own body. Madara jerked to a stop where he’d been pacing a circle around his own kitchen table and stopped mid sentence when he realized he wasn’t alone anymore. Something of what he was feeling must have shown on Tobirama’s face because Madara remained frozen in place even as the phone was removed from his hand to be placed against Tobirama’s ear instead.

“End of call. He’s busy.”

Then he hung up and set it aside with careful, detached movements. 

“What did-”

“Your shop is just a front,” Tobirama said. He couldn’t help that his voice was still empty with shock, though he regretted how deeply Madara winced. 

“Ah. I was...I was talking pretty loud, huh?”

Shifting his weight nervously, eyes darting side to side, it wasn’t too hard to see he thought everything in his life was about to come crashing down on his head. It was a testament to how deeply he too had fallen in to this fast relationship that he very obviously didn’t even consider attacking Tobirama or threatening him in to silence, only stood and waited to know how bad the reaction would be.

Ever abrasive and too focused on the wrong things, it didn’t occur to Tobirama that he should comfort or reassure the man, driving forward without pause. 

“That’s why there’s never many people in there,” he guessed. “I wondered how you paid the bills when you were never actually busy and...and you don’t. You don’t make money on the shop, that’s not what it’s for. You’re a front for the fucking mob.”

“I mean we’re not the  _ mob _ -” Madara bit his lip, eyes flicking up as if admitting it out loud would somehow make it worse. 

“Call it whatever the fuck you want!” And then Tobirama was throwing his head back and laughing. Laughing long and loud and freely in a way that untied knots in his chest that had been there for more years than he wanted to count. “That’s- this- the ‘family’ my brother keeps talking about is yours! All this time...and I never even guessed...but you’re not really a part of what they do, are you?”

“Not really,” Madara grumbled. He could not have looked more anxious if he tried. 

“The rest of your family gets their hands dirty while you march around in public making donuts so they can have a place to launder their dirty money and you have a ready made alibi whenever you need one.” 

It was the perfect crime. Not the arrangement Madara had with his family, of course, Tobirama would call that almost clumsy at best, but the fact that Madara’s hands were so clean even he hadn’t seen through the smoke. In all his life Tobirama had never been so happy to find out that the wool had well and truly been pulled down over his eyes. Generally in his line of work being surprised meant being dead very soon after. This was without a doubt the only circumstance in which he didn’t mind a surprise - welcomed it, even. 

Because this changed everything. Absolutely everything. 

“You,” he declared, “are an absolute wonder.”

“I...what?”

Madara stared at him, jaw hanging loose, all the muscles in his body tensed to weather a bad reaction. He squeaked a little when Tobirama jerked him in for a hot kiss. 

“You’re a wonder. Perfection walking. Do you realize you just handed me the answer to everything?”

“Don’t take this the wrong way but you’re oddly happy for someone who just found out his boyfriend runs a front for the most powerful crime family in the area.” Madara cocked his head to one side, too flabbergasted to consider any sort of self preservation, but he didn’t protest being dragged in for another kiss. 

“That’s rich coming from someone who didn’t notice he was dating a contractor.” 

Were he not already high on his own emotional roller coaster he might have experienced a bit more panic at the widening of Madara’s eyes, the way his entire face went slack in an utterly broadsided expression. As it was he was already doing all he could to contain the sensation of floating off the ground like all his problems had lifted away to leave him weightless. It wasn’t until Madara spoke again that he realized exactly how much his own little revelation might have implied. 

“You were going to kill me weren’t you?” 

For the space of a few terrifying seconds Tobirama could swear all the blood in his veins froze solid as he imagined just that. Then good sense returned and he cupped this incredible man’s face between his hands with as gentle of a smile as he was capable of making. 

“I was hired to,” he admitted. “But...this is one job that I don’t-...I don’t think I would have been able to complete.”

“Oh.”

In that one shaken syllable he knew that Madara understood everything he was trying to say. Which was good because Tobirama wasn’t sure he could have put it all in to better words or properly encompassed everything he was feeling. There was just too much going on in his chest right now and he’d never been good at interpreting any of that anyway. Maybe he would get a chance to be good at it now, who knew? It was impossible to say just how much change might be on the horizon for him. 

The two of them stood in the kitchen staring in to each other's eyes for what felt like an eternity. Maybe the world was passing them by outside, maybe it wasn’t, but neither of them were very bothered with checking on that. What was happening right here in the kitchen felt so much more important than anything else could possibly be at the moment. This conversation would decide the future for both of them. Would define how they looked back at the past. After all the hours he’d spent looking for an out Tobirama already knew what he wanted from this - but he couldn’t exactly see inside Madara’s head and there was only one way to find out if this changed anything between them. 

Before he had a chance to speak, however, Madara did first.

“Later you are going to tell me exactly who hired you,” he demanded and honestly that was fair, if strange that it wasn’t the first thing he wanted to know.

“Of course.”

“Right. A fucking- a contractor. You? Huh... You know what, I can see it. Shit, I can really see it but fuck me if I didn’t until you said something; you really must be good.” He grinned suddenly and the expression was all teeth. “Are you sure you want to slum it with someone small time like me?” 

Tobirama answered without words. His hands were already in the right place to pull them together and devour his partner like a man finding water in the desert. In a way he did feel something like that, like he had woven a shield of darkness around himself only to find at last the one person who’d ever thought to bring him a light. Knowing that the truth of who and what he was wouldn’t frighten away the one good thing he’d ever had was a feeling he couldn't possibly have described using human words. This was euphoria in a way he’d only heard about from others. 

Happiness, he was pretty sure they’d called it.

Something like a groan slipped through the space between their lips and the sound was so punched out he couldn’t tell if it came from him or from Madara but Tobirama answered it anyway, chasing his partner until their bodies were pressed against the wall and rocking together more out of desperation than any physical desire. Whatever was running through his veins right now was driven by his heart and he was as unfamiliar with how to control it as he was with how to define it. Not that he cared to. Definitions could wait for another day and controlling himself was perhaps the farthest thing from his mind at the moment. What need did he have of control when Madara had just handed him an invitation to crack himself open and spill himself across the floor for the first time in his life without fear of driving away the only one he’d ever wanted to see him. 

Blunt fingers pulled at his hair and a spike of want ripped through him. It almost felt as though he weren’t in control of his own body anymore as he bent and took hold of Madara’s thighs, standing again to pull the man up and wrap those glorious legs around his own waist. When Madara bucked in to him on instinct he rolled his hips forward in answer and the friction was glorious. If he had the willpower to step back even a fraction of an inch he would fall to his knees and worship this man from the ground up but the thought of separating now was inconceivable. 

“If you kill me,” Madara growled, leaving his lips to kiss along the marks on his cheeks and sink teeth in to his ear, “it better be with the best fucking orgasm I’ve ever had in my life.”

“Yes,” was all Tobirama could breath in return. 

“Shit, do you-  _ nnng _ , do that again. Do you know how worried I was about when you realized who my family is?” 

“I can imagine.”

Between rolling his hips again and drinking in the breath that hitched against his ear like the sweetest music Tobirama almost missed the sound of a thoughtful hum. 

“S’pose you can.”

“You are entirely too coherent right now,” Tobirama growled. “Allow me to fix that.” 

One hand between them was all he needed to pop the button of Madara’s jeans and he found new appreciation for the muscles in the legs cinching tighter around his waist to keep them both in place. Madara’s cock was already hard when he took it between his fingers, admiring the shape and the weight of it, then he closed his fist and dragged it up in a tight stroke that earned him a series of strangled vowels all mashed together. Hot breath stuttered against his ear as he dragged his hand down again and paused to let his thumb trace the thick under vein. This was all he wanted. Just this right here for the rest of his life. Madara warm and pliant against him, murmuring nonsense with every movement of his hand, muscles clenching and twitching like he couldn’t control his own pleasure. It was all too much and not enough in the most perfect way. 

When his partner demanded he move faster he did. When the legs coiled about him dug in to the base of his spine he only closed his eyes and pressed himself closer. Madara could ask the very world of him in this moment - in any moment - and Tobirama would tear the planet apart just to hand it over piece by piece. Barely a handful of minutes had passed, however, before he realized the fault of their position. A hand was hardly the best he could do and from the way Madara was pawing uselessly at the clothing bunched between them it was easy to tell this wasn’t nearly enough for either of them. Tobirama might not be the most selfish of men in bed but he wasn’t going to say no if his own pleasure was on offer too. 

Giving barely a grunt of warning he stepped back and turned to spill his partner across the dining table. Something piled near the end went crashing to the floor. Neither of them so much as glanced away. Madara threw his head back the moment Tobirama’s fingers slid under his shirt and arched in to the sensation, voice rising and falling with the nonsensical patterns dancing across his skin. Though he barely seemed to register that his shirt was being undone, the second it was fully open he pounced like a waiting tiger, practically tearing at the bottom of Tobirama’s t-shirt until it was up and over his head. Then he wrapped one hand around Tobirama’s neck to pull him down for a kiss while the other reached between them to pull uselessly at the button of his pants. 

Distracted as he was, it took a minute before Tobirama had the concentration to help pull his own pants open and the relief of pressure made him groan. Wrapping his fingers around both of them was like giving in to gravity. 

“Not what I-  _ shit _ ! Not what I meant-” Madara gasped and the sound was as needy and desperate as Tobirama felt. “Hah, gods, fuck! Don’t you dare stop!” 

“I thought this wasn’t what you meant?”

A twist of his hand made them both shudder but Tobirama gamely forced himself to keep talking, every word breathy and open and he just couldn't bring himself to care. 

“You wanted me to fuck you, hm? To bend you over whatever was closest and drive myself in so deep you’d feel me inside you for days, weeks.”

“Do you  _ ever _ stop talking?”

“Not when I know it gets you off faster, no. You like my voice.”

Madara whined but didn’t deny it. 

What he did do was lift his legs and wrap them tighter around Tobirama’s waist, pressing his heels in until they were as close as they could be without disturbing the motion of their hips rocking frantically together. Tobirama closed his eyes and wished he’d thought to grab something to use as lubricant but he’d be damned if he was going to stop now. The building falling down around them could not have convinced him to pull away from the look of rapture on Madara’s face. 

Overwhelmed, still high on his own emotions and a little unsure he wasn’t just dreaming, the only way he could think of to anchor himself in reality was to sink his teeth in to Madara’s lip and twist his fingers just so, a trick he’d picked up somewhere that he refused to think about just now. The sound of screaming in his ear came only seconds before warmth splashed over his hand and Tobirama cocked a grin. If this was a dream it was a good one. Obviously Madara thought so too by the way he was moaning so loud his neighbors could probably hear them. 

It was weird to hope that they did. Since he was a child Tobirama had learned that safety could only be found in silence, in escaping the eyes and ears of those around him. Hoping the neighbors could hear them in some primal need to stake his claim felt strange - and strangely thrilling.

The fingers clenched in his hair slowly unwound their forbidding grip and yet they remained, cupping the back of his head so gently Tobirama wanted to curl in to this man’s embrace and shatter, fly apart in a million pieces for no reason other than that he knew Madara would put him back together again. He was still hard himself, right at the cusp and tense as his body screamed for the friction to continue, but Tobirama forced his hips in to stillness, coaxed his muscles to loosen in time with the legs around his waist sliding downwards in blissful afterglow. Feeling absent circles drawn in to the nape of his neck gave him the strength to lift his head and smile down at the glorious masterpiece spread out underneath him. He could spend the rest of his life like this. 

His knees weakened and very nearly folded underneath him when it hit at last. He could. He  _ could _ spend the rest of his life like this. 

“Are you-”

“I love you.” Tobirama’s voice remained steady only through sheer force of will. “That...look I have no idea how most people go about this - I do know that was probably way too early or fast or whatever but-”

“Yeah. Me too.”

Something thundered in his chest, something that felt a great deal like his heart, though Tobirama had very little concentration to spare for confirming that when he was busy riding high on the words ringing in his ears. He was well aware that his growing smile probably made him look as goofy as one of those sickeningly romantic movie characters but he just did not care. One was supposed to smile when one was happy. That had been one of his first behavioral lessons. 

“Are we stupid?” he asked. “I was supposed to kill you, not fall in love with you. Should you really trust me after admitting that?”

“You didn’t do it,” Madara pointed out.

Tobirama swallowed past the sudden lump in his throat. “No, I didn’t.”

“Hn. Know what else I don’t think you did?”

“Do you have to be so crass? It’s not a problem.”

“Shut up, back up, and let me suck your cock.” 

When he put it that way there wasn’t much Tobirama could say to deny him, not if he really wanted to do it that badly. Both of them were grinning as Madara pushed himself up on to his elbows, pulling the sides of his open shirt in to wipe the smears of cum off his belly. Tobirama pulled his hand away when his partner tried to grab that too and leaned back to reach the paper towels sitting nearby. By the time his fingers were left with only a mildly sticky residue Madara was up off the table and pushing him back against the closest vertical surface. When he sank to his knees Tobirama had to look away. Now would be a terrible time to make a fool of himself no matter how attractive the visual in front of him was, clothing open and body displayed without shame, sweat on his skin from the pleasure Tobirama had given him and a smile for the act of returning it in kind. 

If he’d thought he would regret letting such dangerous words slip out of his control this moment right here was enough to prove him wrong. 

He would have been ashamed of how quickly he had to lock his knees and grip the counter just to keep from collapsing if not for the light of smug satisfaction in Madara’s eyes, watching him come undone like he was both dinner and the show. Tobirama felt no shame for tossing his head back to expose the vulnerable line of his throat and adding his own unfettered shout to the cries still bouncing off the ceiling above them. Only when his entire body was trembling with the bright edges of too much did his partner relent. As soon as he could feel his own body again Tobirama was pulling Madara up against him to devour each other one more time. 

“Talk shop now?” his partner breathed after they finally managed to keep their hands off each other long enough to breath. Tobirama barked a laugh. 

“And here I thought you had a one track mind.”

“Look, I’ve got a lot of questions, alright? I just had something more important to take care of first.”

With his nose stuck in the air he must have missed the way Tobirama’s eyes softened but that was alright. Suddenly they had all the time in the world to embarrass themselves with their own emotions. He was rolling his eyes by the time Madara looked at him again, earning himself a gentle smack against the shoulder, so Tobirama raised one eyebrow in challenge. 

Half a second later they were tussling, wrestling like they weren’t both still hanging out the front of their pants and tacky with the remnants of pleasure. For all that Madara’s body type was naturally solid and - his arms were suspiciously well defined for a man who spent most of his time in a kitchen - Tobirama was the one who had spent literal decades honing his body in to a perfect killing machine. All it took was a few subtle twitches of muscle and he was able to use the other man’s weight against him to push them both across the floor towards the living room, spilling them down on to the couch again to laugh in each other’s necks. 

“You were supposed to let me win!” Madara half shouted at him. 

“When exactly did I agree to that?”

A sharp puff of air blew straight in to his ear, making him jerk even as Madara declared in a lofty tone, “I am your older and your better, clearly I am always supposed to win in all things.”

“Don’t make me roll you off the couch,” Tobirama threatened. He would do it too. Just because he was in love that didn’t make him any less of an asshole. Of course then he took the sting out of his own words by letting his entire body relax at once, practically melting over the form underneath him and turning a deaf ear to the squawks as Madara realized he wouldn’t be moving for a while. He didn’t even need to concentrate much to hear that those protests were all bald faced lies.

Thick hands pushed at various parts of his body but the angle they had fallen over each other added to the press of his dead weight left Madara with very few places to get enough leverage and he gave up soon without making really any progress. After waiting for those hands to fall away again Tobirama soothed him by capturing one and bringing it up under his chin. Not to kiss each finger like some romantic hero and not to nuzzle lightly as someone softer might, simply just to have a part of the man that owned his heart so close, to hold him in a way that didn’t feel awkward for such a broken soul. 

Silence fell over them for several minutes. If not for the jagged remnants of sunlight peering in through the window and reflecting off the television at exactly the wrong angle Tobirama might almost have relaxed enough to fall asleep. His eyes were drifting closed when Madara’s other hand came up to cup the base of his neck as if to brace and protect him from a blow and he knew that the hard conversation had come. 

“I suppose we need to talk about it now?”

“Well I do have a lot of questions…”

“Alright.”

Breathing in slowly, Madara spoke in a voice so low it almost drifted away before it reached Tobirama’s ears. “Who took out the contract against me?” 

“A small group of men who all looked a great deal like you. Same last name too. It’s usually part of the service I offer not to get too much info on my clients - the less I know the less I can trace back to them if something happens - but I could describe them.”

So he did. By the way Madara’s body stiffened more and more underneath him with every word it was safe to say he knew exactly who they were even without names. 

“My uncles,” he breathed eventually. “My own fucking uncles. Since my father died they’ve been trying to figure out exactly who stands at the top of the food chain. Technically I was the heir but I’ve never really wanted to be the guy pulling all the strings, I’m happy just being the bolthole guy that runs my little shop. I’m not dumb but I know myself enough to know I’d never be able to keep all the little threads woven together the way Tajima did. My brother Izuna, he’s been filling our father’s shoes for a while now. Doing a bang up job of it too. He worries about his son though so I’ve got Kagami on a regular schedule to keep him out of trouble.”

“Smart thing to do,” Tobirama mumbled. He could hear the tremble in Madara’s voice as he rambled, his mind skittering around the edges of something it didn’t want to accept, and watching him spiral inwards was as difficult as it was necessary. 

“I knew they all wanted to step in themselves but I never figured they would kill one of their own. Family...family is  _ everything _ to us. And honestly I don’t get it. If they had to kill someone why me? Don’t get me wrong, I’m fucking thrilled they didn’t send you after Izuna, but why now?”

“Probably because they were afraid of you stepping up in that case,” Tobirama pointed out. “You are, as you said, your father’s rightful heir. Just because you’re letting Izuna do the job for you there’s no guarantee you’d let them do the same in his absence.”

Madara nodded. His arms wound around Tobirama’s waist to hold him tightly. “Thanks for not splitting my throat when you had the chance.” 

“One could say I was glad for that as well.”

“Fuck them!” his partner burst out suddenly. “God, fuck those assholes with a sharp goddamn stick! They think- they really- I’ll kill them myself!”

“Could you?” Tobirama asked curiously.

Obviously being raised in a family neck deep in various crimes had inured him to many things but that wasn’t to say that Madara had ever been trained in taking a life with his own hands. Anyone could be trained to fire a weapon. Not everyone had the stomach to point it at another human knowing it was their actions that would snuff out the light in the eyes looking back at them. Still contentedly trapped underneath him, Madara snorted. 

“I’ve never gotten dirty myself but for them I would. For this I would.” 

“Would you perhaps consider allowing me the honor?” 

After a short pause Madara hummed in invitation for him to go on and Tobirama shifted enough so they could look each other in the eye.

“I was the one they contracted for a kill,” he said, “and I’ve never left a contract unfinished in one way or another in my entire life. It would be a sweet irony if the blade they chose struck them down instead, don’t you think?”

“Hn, that’s not why you want to do it, is it?”

“Not entirely, no. It would be you, who has very little experience in this, against several other men who do. Having your revenge at the cost of your life is not an equation I’m willing to entertain.” 

“Well look who’s pulling out the romance suddenly.” 

Tobirama grunted and held his tongue. Neither of them really needed to hear out loud all the terrible ways he was imagining how that scenario could go wrong. He’d only just been handed everything he could never admit he wanted and he’d be dead in pieces before he allowed even a slim chance of that being taken away from him. Just the idea of Madara throwing himself in to death for the sake of avenging an emotional betrayal made his guts tighten uncomfortably. He was intimately familiar with what death looked like, it was only too easy for his imagination to superimpose that image over the lively beauty that made Madara, well,  _ Madara _ . 

After taking a moment to shake such unwanted thoughts away he met the dark eyes watching him and lifted a single brow. 

“We have a deal, yes? I want your agreement that you’ll let me handle this.”

“I guess what else is a boyfriend for if not to smear your enemies across a wall or something.” Madara grumbled and looked away, a slight curling of his lips the only sign he heard the hitch of Tobirama’s breath. 

That was all the agreement he spoke out loud but it was enough. It was more than enough when he spent the next couple hours laying out every scrap of information he had on his own uncles, their habits and their vulnerabilities, their properties and the things that meant the most to them. Tobirama made sure to show his appreciation properly at least twice more before they made it in to bed that night but after Madara fell asleep on his chest he stayed awake for several more hours, scrolling through his phone one handed as he pieced and re-pieced several different bits of information together, planning and scrapping and making new plans. No job had ever been so important in his entire life. If he didn’t pull this off without a single flaw then it wasn’t only his life on the line anymore.

For exactly that reason Tobirama took his time to look at every possible option he could think up, culling through different ideas and discarding them in ones and twos until finally he had a plan that felt air tight, something that wouldn’t endanger Madara in any way. At one point he considered calling his brother to warn Hashirama of the upset he was about to make, the balance he was about to tip in the world of crime his sibling so carefully watched over. In the end he decided not to. The less Hashirama knew was about to happen the more naturally he could react when the news broke. 

After going through all the information Madara provided him the two of them realized that there had always been one very easy way to bring the men they were up against all together without them suspecting a thing. It had been there all along, of course, and the only reason neither had considered it was simply because they considered such a scenario unthinkable. All Tobirama needed to do was call them to say he had completed the job. The only difficult part would be keeping his voice steady as he spoke the words.

Madara did not appreciate being left out of loop when he set things in motion, that much he made very vocally clear, but Tobirama knew better than to provide temptation. For all the man had promised to keep out of it he was exactly the sort of hothead to come rushing in to the middle of something he shouldn’t if he caught one single whiff that things had gone wrong. When Tobirama slipped away from him he did so in the middle of the night, laying gentle kisses across a brow already starting to wrinkle from frowning too often. One phone call made with a monotone voice and he knew he had the attention of several men. All it took was a bland offer of proof and he was grinning viciously. 

For men smart enough to pull the strings of so many crimes they certainly were stupid. 

A few innocuous sentences that weren’t really phrased as suggestions and he had agreement from one that all five Uchiha patriarchs would be present in the right place at the right time. Tobirama slid in to the empty warehouse that night through a window with crumbling hinges, eyes already adjusted to the dark and ears sharp for any unexpected sounds. He’d already watched each of his targets arrive separately and alone. Good. It would be a shame to involve unnecessary collateral damage and Tobrama couldn’t be one hundred percent sure he wouldn’t be killing someone Madara actually liked if they’d brought guards. Seeing everything pan out just as he’d hoped was twice the thrill now than it had ever been before when he himself had actual stakes on the line. 

The actual deed itself was simple. Unlike other more dramatic members of his profession, Tobirama wasted little time on monologuing or explaining himself. A ceiling fan and one carefully prepared vial of neurotoxic chemicals was all it took to have the entire room of men on their knees choking and spitting, falling to their knees with wails of confusion, and he rather enjoyed the rage in their eyes when he stepped in to the light wearing a military grade filtration mask. Several of them gurgled and Tobirama hummed almost thoughtfully as he knelt in front of the one who first explained this job to him. 

“Yes, yes,” he drawled. “How dare I betray you, you’ll have my skin, crossed the wrong people, blah blah blah. If you have nothing original to say then please refrain from saying anything at all.”

One or two of them fell silent, probably more from enraged shock than anything else, but the one he knelt closest to narrowed his eyes and twitched violently, fighting the chemical in the air for control of his own body.

“In one minute you will have lost all sensation in your limbs. In two you will lose consciousness as your heart slows. My advice would be to hope that happens before you lose control of your muscles. That seems like a more peaceful way to go than this.” Tobirama held up a small trigger device as he spoke, letting everyone see it before sliding it in to the man’s hand and pressing one wrinkled thumb down on the trigger. “It’s on a timer, of course. Otherwise I’m sure you’d let go now to take me with you.”

Standing up and wiping off his pants with calculated nonchalance, Tobirama cocked his head to one side and regarded the men before him. If he were a better person he might say he owed them for the happiness he was now able to look forward to in his future. Unfortunately for them he was not a good person. Nor was he given to bouts of mercy. What he did have was a lack of morals and a very dark sense of humor. 

“Sleep well gentlemen - and dream of Madara. I know I certainly do.”

With that he left them and did not look back. He was already several miles away in a perfectly nondescript vehicle when the sky in his rearview mirror lit up, orange and yellow flames belching upwards. Fire was a messy way to get things done, too easily out of control and always drawing too much attention, but the deeply buried drama gene he shared with his older brother rather enjoyed the idea of going out with a bang. Besides that fire did have a way of neatly burning away all traces of his presence. With these men gone there was no one left in the world to stand in the way of him settling down to spend the rest of his life with someone he absolutely did not deserve. Tobirama flicked on the radio, settled back in his seat, and smiled all the way home until he was crawling back in to bed and pulling Madara close. 

They woke up in the morning to frantic phone calls and ate their breakfast while they watched a local news anchor cover the story of a mysterious gas line explosion the night before. When several photographs were thrown up on screen to show the suspected identities of the bodies found inside Madara slowly turned to look at him with narrowed eyes. Tobirama took another bite of cereal and kicked up his feet. 

“How about that,” he murmured with absolutely zero inflection. It took a few seconds, long agonizing seconds in which his traitorous heart beat faster and faster, and then suddenly Madara was laughing.

“You dick.”

“Why am I a dick?” he protested. “All I did was take care of a problem.”

“Could have given your boyfriend a little warning, you know?”

Tobirama harrumphed, stirring the colorful pebbles in his bowl. “It’s not like you didn’t already know it was going to happen. Consider it a late birthday present.”

“We didn’t even know each other on my last birthday,” Madara pointed out. 

“Mn, a travesty I very clearly need to make up for. Hence the present, though you’re not being very gracious about it.”

“I reiterate: you dick.”

To apologize for the surprise of waking up to discover all of their problems were dead - not a terrible surprise in his books but Tobirama knew he tended to look at the world differently than most people - he spent the next few days helping Madara wade through the chaos his actions had caused. Of course the Uchiha clan was a little turned upside down to have so many of their elders disappear in one night. As the legal head of their clan Madara was the one who had to deal with soothing family members, reassigning duties, laughing behind his hand while he watched the rest of his family increase their security details, and all of this while putting on a show of public mourning. Izuna’s voice on speakerphone became a common sound in the house, one that Tobirama decided he did not like after a ten minute rant about how much paperwork this whole fiasco was causing. As grateful as he was that the other man was happy to perform a function Madara didn’t want he wasn’t sure he was going to enjoy the company of his beloved's last remaining family. 

Between all the many and varied tasks that came with restructuring an entire power system Tobirama found what moments he could to take care of a few things for himself. Almost before he knew it an entire month had passed and he found himself in possession of an entirely new set of ID cards and the contents of several safety deposit boxes had been mailed to him from various parts of the country. It felt strange to look at his own original birth certificate. Stranger still to idle his days away without wondering where his next job would come from or where he might have to travel for it but he’d known it would take some time to get used to a more stationary lifestyle.

One thing he needed to do that Madara was more than happy to help him with was come up with an airtight story for what he’d been doing all his life to end up here. Both of them needed to have his background down solid and all the information needed to match. If they wanted this to be permanent then it needed to be perfect - and even Tobirama himself was surprised by how badly he wanted this to be permanent. He really was putting all his eggs in the same basket with this, putting everything of himself in to Madara’s hands and praying that trust would be returned in kind. 

It was only after everything else had been settled as much as it could be and Tobirama had been woven in to Madara’s life so tightly most seemed to believe he had always been there that he reached out to slide the last piece of the puzzle in to place. Only one thing was missing now and although he wasn’t usually given to creating drama, too used to the shadows and the safety to be found there, just this once he decided to make an exception. All he had to do was wait for the right opportunity.

Luckily one presented itself very quickly after he was ready and all it took was keeping a weather eye on the local news station. When the overly chipper anchorman announced their mayor would be holding a press conference that afternoon he was up off the couch without listening to hear the rest.

“But if no one wants them,” Kagami was saying when Tobirama pushed his way in through the front door of the Moon’s Eye Bakery, “then why do you bother making any?”

“It makes the case look more full and a full case attracts more sales,” Madara’s voice answered from somewhere around the corner.

“That’s stupid. Wouldn’t it being full sort of mean we haven’t sold anything?”

“Look, I’m not an expert in psychology. I just bake.”

Kagami definitely had some more to say to that but he paused and his entire expression brightened when he caught sight of Tobirama coming through the door. As soon as he’d been told that Tobirama was in fact going to be a permanent part of their lives and hopefully a part of their ‘family business’ he’d taken to the idea of a new uncle like a duck to water. He didn’t seem put off in the slightest when Tobirama dropped the act of a polite civilian and allowed his natural awkwardness around children to show through. In fact he seemed almost delighted, as though the ultimate decision to just treat him like a very short adult was somehow a large compliment. Tobirama did not pretend to understand. 

“Heya Uncle Tobi!” Kagami waved as they both ignored the very unsubtle crashing noises from behind the wall. 

“Is that Tobirama!? What’s he doing here!?”

After sharing a look with his new sort of nephew Tobirama let himself behind the counter and poked his head through the open doorway to see Madara staring down at his feet. Probably he’d been stirring whatever was in the massive steel bowl currently flipped over on his toes, bright yellow batter spread out in all directions. 

The sight of him was somehow both pathetic and much too endearing to be healthy. Also entirely hilarious. 

“What would it take me for to convince you to take the afternoon off?” Tobirama blithely ignored the mess he’d just peripherally caused. 

“Not a lot,” Madara admitted in a tired voice. “Afternoons aren’t really all that busy. We usually sell down on a few things but I could just make a couple extra batches and leave Kagami here by himself. If we magically run out of something else then fuck it. One day won’t kill anyone - and we’re not here for profit anyway so who gives a shit?” 

As tempted as Tobirama was to sidle closer and pull his partner in for a kiss he refrained. Stepping anywhere near that mess was just asking to have his dignity thrown to the wind - and his ass thrown to the floor. 

“Right then, I’m stealing you around three then.”

“Where are we going?” Madara asked and Tobirama had to catch his breath even as he watched the man grumbling while he fetched something to clean up his ruined batter. He wondered if this easy trust would ever stop taking his breath away. 

“Town hall,” he murmured rather than voice any of that. “Press conference. I...would like to attend”

He didn’t need to say anything more. From the look on his face Madara clearly understood and for that he was grateful. There were many things about Madara that he was grateful for, most of which he hoped he would find the words for someday. For now they both seemed content to show rather than tell since actions came so much easier than any sort of drawn out confessions or declarations. 

A baker he might not be but Tobirama made use of himself fetching and mixing ingredients under his partner’s supervision until Madara was satisfied there was enough stock to keep the front counter full in his absence. Shortly before three o’clock they washed their hands, bid Kagami goodbye, and headed out to weave their way through the increasing traffic until a parking spot miraculously revealed itself only a short walk from the civic buildings. Madara did make a few passing attempts at some light conversation but each of them petered off as Tobirama found himself just a little too jittery to concentrate. Not only for the anticipation but out of fear, in some small way. Being in the public eye was something he’d always associated with an easy death. 

Still he managed to keep himself steady as they climbed the steps to wind their way through the gathered reporters and various media. And then there he was. 

Hashirama stood as tall and proud as Tobirama had always known he would, every step perfectly sure as he made his way to the podium set up to address the people of his city. The massive length of his hair added a certain elegance as it billowed out behind him only to settle about his shoulders like a cape when he came to a stop. Several microphones already decorated his little podium but that didn’t stop any of the reporters from straining to reach out with their little hand held recorders as he opened his mouth-

Only to freeze. Tobirama stared back at him and wondered for a moment if the weight of those brown eyes would finally be the thing to crush him. 

“That’s impossible…” Hashirama’s breathy voice carried easily to the gathered crowd, leaving most of them blinking at each other in question, but Hashirama had eyes only for the one person he likely never expected to see again. “Otouto?”

As the people around them began to murmur Madara burrowed deeper in to the hood he’d covered himself with and pushed Tobirama a little closer. Hashirama took one staggering, jerking step to the side but caught his own balance on one of the microphones, unintentionally pitching his cry for all to hear. 

“You’re here! You’re alive!  _ Tobirama _ !” 

Leave it to the man who had an entire city under his thumb to start laying the groundwork for a lie even as his entire world was turned upside down. Tobirama had a couple of seconds to admire his brother’s quick mind before the man was thundering down the steps of town hall to reach across the press barrier and haul him in for a hug that very nearly snapped his spine. 

Just like that the entire world seemed to fall away and suddenly he was only ten years old again finding safety in his big brother’s arms. Tobirama paid no attention to the voices around them, ignored the barrier pressing uncomfortably in to his stomach, closed his eyes to the world outside of this moment. All he cared about was the woody scent filling his nose and the warmth of the arms holding him, pulling him in tighter and tighter like they could squeeze away all the years they’d spent apart. Hashirama’s voice blubbered in his ear but for once he didn’t mind. How could he when this was the first time he’d heard the adult voice of his precious sibling in person? It was strange to feel the rumble against his own chest, stranger still to hear the difference when that voice wasn’t made tinny through broken cellphone reception. 

“You’re so tall,” Hashirama whispered and when he laughed Tobirama couldn’t help that the sound was so watery.

“Speak for yourself, you tree.”

“Otouto. My precious baby Otouto.” Loosening his arms just the slightest bit, Hashirama leaned only far enough away that they could look each other in the eye. It wasn’t surprising to see the tears streaming down his face.

Because for all that Tobirama had contented himself with the occasional news article or civic website to see photographs of the man his brother had become, watching from afar in the only way he knew was safe, he also knew that Hashirama had spent all this time with nothing, a voice through the phone his only connection to the bond they had forged as children. For a wild moment Tobirama wondered what his brother thought of the tattoos on his face. Then Hashirama pressed their foreheads together and he wanted to cry himself. 

This was how they’d said goodbye all those years ago. It was only fitting this was how they should finally say hello again. 

“How?” 

No more words than that were needed, Tobirama knew all the dozen and more questions wrapped up in that one breathy syllable. How was he here right now? How was he still in town after so long? How could he reveal his presence and their relationship to each other so easily in the public eye? How was any of this moment possible?

“I found a miracle,” Tobirama murmured, lips curling in a smirk when a wave of spluttering exploded beside him. “It’s a long story.” Considering how much they’d already discussed over the phone it wasn’t a very long story at all but he trusted his sibling to understand that his words were not for public ears. 

“You’ve been gone for so long, I thought I might never see you again.” 

“Well I’m here now.”

Hashirama offered him a chiding look but it was softened with a smile. Then he whined in protest when Tobirama pulled away just far enough to reel Madara in against his side. 

“Anija, may I introduce you to my partner, Uchiha Madara? You’ll have him to thank for me finding home again.”

“Oh! Madara is it? Thank you! Oh you can’t know- I’ve missed him so much- and you- thank you Madara!” Halfway through his sentence Hashirama was launching himself to the side where he sobbed the rest of his words in to a very startled Madara’s shoulder and blithely ignored the garbled protests. As nice as their first hug in over a decade had been Tobirama was just as glad to have all the eyes around them look away from him now that his awareness of the world was creeping back in. 

He waited a minute or so just for the pleasure of seeing the two most precious people in his life there sharing the same space. Then Tobirama very gently extricated his partner from an embarrassing death by enthusiastic hugs. When Hashirama reached out with both hands to latch on to one of his own he allowed it, dipping his chin almost bashfully.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt whatever address you were trying to give,” he lied. “But when I saw your name on the news…”

“Don’t apologize,” Hashirama told him. 

“Should I, ah, should I wait to the side?” 

A slight tilt of the head and an innocent blink of his eyes had several of the press around them vocally crying out for the two of them not to spoil their reunion. People were always so easy to manipulate in a crowd. Hashirama played along easily with a crafted look of surprise, asking if they were sure, blabbering that he was the mayor and of course he would never forget that he had duties to his citizens. It worked like a charm. 

Suddenly there were a dozen and more voices encouraging them to go, others hollering invasive questions over the noise only to be shouted down, the entire gathering a cacophony of sound all moving to the beat of Hashirama's subtle machinations. Tobirama staggered under a crash of pride for how deeply his brother had control of his city. All the people around them danced to his tune and not a single one of them seemed to understand they were dancing on strings pulled by a man with his own agenda. Like sheep they move as a herd, blissfully ignorant of the dogs snapping at their heels, but he was hardly going to be the one to point out their folly. Not when they were opening an escape route for him to follow his brother over the barrier and up in to city hall where Hashirama led them to a very plush looking office. 

The moment they were alone he pulled Tobirama in for another hug but that wasn’t exactly terrible. At least this time there were no eyes but Madara’s to watch as the brothers held on to each other and reaffirmed their bond with quiet words pressed in to each other’s hair. The last time they’d seen each other Hashirama was in the middle of a growth spurt and Tobirama could have fit underneath his chin even standing at full height - but then, the last time they had seen each other they both still classified as preteens and Tobirama’s goodbyes had been cut short by their father physically picking him up by the scruff of his neck, pulling him away in to the night as they fled the consequences of his first and only failed job. 

Was it good and right that he’d been asked to take a life at eleven years old? Probably not. Tobirama couldn’t say who he would have been if their lives had gone differently. What he did know was that he wouldn’t be here watching Hashirama wipe tears of joy from sun-browned cheeks, one hand tethered tightly to his brother while the other reached for Madara almost unconsciously.

“So,” Hashirama murmured. “An Uchiha, ne? That’s funny, I don’t remember even mentioning the name of the family I was telling you about.”

“Yeah well he also never mentioned you were his brother until after we’d already settled everything else.” Madara rolled his eyes and made a great show of harrumphing irritably, though he never made no effort to retrieve his hand. 

“I’m afraid he’s always been a little reticent.”

Tobirama gave both of them a flat look. “Do excuse me for exercising due caution.”

“Oh.  _ Oh _ . You look just the same when you make that face!” 

Like a switch being flipped, Hashirama's eyes began to well up again immediately. He began to blubber on about how happy he was that Tobirama could finally meet his wife, could be there to watch their children grow up, how they could finally sit down to eat meals together just like they used to, all the things they’d missed out on for most of their lives. And for once Tobirama simply let him go on to his heart’s content. He knew very well how quickly this would grow old just as it did through the phone but for now he was content to soak in the novelty of watching how animated the man’s face was as he chattered. So different and yet so much the same. Tobirama wondered how many years it would take until his instincts cooled enough to let him carry photographs around in his wallet. He looked forward to seeing his brother so much they got sick of each other. 

Eventually Madara leaned in close to mutter in his ear, voice just loud enough to be heard under the endless tearful ranting. 

“Does he go on like this a lot? He always sounds so composed when he makes a public address.”

“You have no idea.”

“Huh.” Madara’s eyes narrowed in thought. “He’s kind of a doofus in person. No offence.” 

“I could hardly be offended by the truth.”

They shared a smile that Hashirama must have seen, judging by the wail he let out, diatribe shifting to ramble about how happy they obviously made each other and how the sight of them just filled up his heart with joy. It would have been the single most embarrassing moment of Tobirama’s life if the words were any less true. Madara did make him happy. 

Despite the month he’d already had to get used to the idea, happiness still managed to surprise him on occasion, some part of him still holding its breath and waiting for something to go wrong. Tobirama found that in this he would be more than happy to have time prove him wrong. One would think after the adrenaline he was used to the thought of lounging away his days in one town would bore him - even he had thought so until recently. Having Madara at his side, having his brother within arm’s reach, that changed things. That was enough. Tobirama would commit to a life of nothing but petty theft if it meant he could fall asleep in Madara’s arms and visit his brother to complain about local tax increases. 

A light tug on their entwined fingers brought his partner’s eyes over to meet his own and Tobirama smiled as openly as he was able to. 

“Thank you,” he said. 

“For?”

“Everything.” A simple answer to encompass so many things but his meaning seemed to get across. 

With a grumble Madara looked away even as he shuffled closer. “Hey, you’re the one that didn’t kill me. If you’re happy you have only yourself to blame.” 

Tobirama’s boom of laughter sent Hashirama off in to yet another fit of tears and all he could think was that he was glad he would be here to wipe them away. He would be here for that and all the other important things for the rest of his life. 


End file.
